


Genesis

by Biblio (Heyerchick)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 05:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 64,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13069998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heyerchick/pseuds/Biblio
Summary: Title: 			GenesisAuthor: 		BiblioRating: 		NC-17Pairing: 		Jack and DanielCategory: 		Alternate Reality. Angst. Drama. Hurt/Comfort.Date: 			April 2010.Season/Spoilers: 	Season 1. An alternate reality springs from the events of "There But For The Grace Of God."Synopsis: 	At the end of everything, Daniel Jackson provokes unexpected feelings from General Jack O'Neill and changes both their lives forever.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Genesis was previously available solely as one of my Biblio's Philes and is posted on the web for the first time here at A03. Along with "World Enough, And Time," this is my personal favourite among my stories, and one where the words managed to get closer to the ideas than I was usually able to manage. I sincerely hope you enjoy this Alternate Reality Daniel and Jack.

_This is not happening._

The thought sawed through Daniel's mind, pounding edgy and dull, as the blast doors finally closed on the Jaffa pouring into the control room. At General O'Neill's curt order, Sam and Catherine bolted through the Stargate, the last two of the Genesis list personnel to make it out to the Beta Site.

" **Autodestruct in one minute** ," the pleasant female voice of the SGA base computer announced.

_This is not happening._

As an explosion boomed and shattered concrete began to slither down the wall from behind the blast door, the stranger wearing Jack O'Neill's face turned hard on his heel, a rough hand biting into Daniel's shoulder.

"I should've sent that bomb," he grated, looking as if he hated Daniel as much as he hated the choice he'd been forced to make.

" **Auto destruct in thirty seconds**."

"I thought you could reach Teal'c," Daniel said, wretched at his miscalculation, his failure to help the people here. "The same way Jack did in my reality. I thought there was a chance."

" **Auto destruct in ten seconds**."

"There's nothing!" General O'Neill shouted, wheeling around without warning to shoulder his MP-5 and track a fast-moving target.

" **Nine seconds**."

The First Prime of Apophis dove to the ground in a headlong, complicated roll that brought him to his knees, his thickly braided top-knot swinging. His face a focused, familiar mask of aggressive concentration, Teal'c smoothly spun his staff weapon hand over hand, raising it to blast Jack.

It was the end of choice.

" **Eight seconds**."

It was the end of everything.

" **Seven seconds**."

Despairingly Daniel reached out for the friend he could save, hauling Jack bodily into the Stargate as he pulled the trigger on Teal'c.

Searing heat punched into Daniel's arm, slamming him into the blue with Jack...

...and then he was falling, flailing down onto concrete, Jack's hard, resistant body thudding down full-force on him. He lay pinioned and breathless as Jack fought to control the arcing burst of rapid fire he'd intended for Teal'c.

Who was dead anyway.

_This is happening_.

As an iris closed over the Stargate, Daniel heard Sam's urgent voice calling out for Jack, her shrillness cutting through the masculine noise and confusion battering at the edges of his consciousness as the weight on him shifted.

"Dr. Jackson!" Jack said, cradling Daniel's neck and shoulders as he lifted him clear of the concrete ramp the Stargate was embedded into. "Daniel!"

"Oh, my God," Daniel whispered, straining around to meet the fierce dark eyes fixed on him. "I'm sorry!" he gasped in pale recognition of the enormity of the loss these people had suffered.

Jack -- the real Jack, his Jack -- would've told him to lighten the hell up, that it was only the end of the world, but apparently Daniel and this man holding on to him had never met. He had to try to remember that.

"We need a medic here!" Jack said, holding Daniel against him in shockingly gentle contradiction of his killing mood. "Fraiser!  Somebody get me Fraiser!"

"Right here!" a sharp voice called out and then a warm, familiar face emerged from behind the sea of surrounding guards to fill Daniel's vision. "The last group through told us the Goa'uld were closing in," she informed the general. "I thought I might be needed, Sir."

"Janet!" Daniel said, gratefully touching the quick hand reaching deftly to explore his wound.

Janet Fraiser's double-take at this familiarity was quickly suppressed as she asked O'Neill about how Daniel had sustained his injury. Listening to the man's explanation, it wasn't clear if Daniel had saved his life or gotten in the way of his last kill.

Daniel watched numbly as Janet delicately cleared the singed cloth of his uniform from the edges of the staff weapon burn, cleaned it, applied an antimicrobial ointment and dressed it, all the while giving a grim-faced situation report to the general. Hand-picked personnel or not, it was the literal end of their world and the mood was one of mounting hysteria as people on the Genesis list began to realise the true cost of their survival lay not in what was saved but in what was lost to them -- in the deaths of family, friends, the homes and lives they knew.

"Is Cassandra okay?" Daniel asked, breaking in on Janet's report, hardly able to face the death of someone else he was close to, not after losing George Hammond and Teal'c.

"Who?" she asked, blank-faced, automatically looking to the general for her answer.

Reality, an entirely different reality, crashed down on Daniel. These were not his people. Not his life.

"I have to get out of here!"  He pushed away from Jack, who reacted as if this was a hostile act, the gentleness of his support replaced by a swift, restraining grip Daniel struggled to free himself from.

"Jack, please!" Daniel said, twisting around to glare at him. "I have to get home!  Don’t you understand?  This could be happening there. Happening in my reality. And I have a chance to prevent it."

Jack glared back at Daniel as if he was choking down an argument, then he nodded terse, grudging acknowledgement of the justice of his claim. "When I can spare someone to take you."

"I don't need an escort," Daniel snapped.

"But I do need the intelligence," Jack retorted, quick anger surging. Yet his hand was there again when Daniel scrambled to his feet, steadying him when pain, exhaustion and the suffocating sense of dislocation slammed down.

"I should go now," Daniel insisted wearily. "I need to go."  Maybe it was selfish of him in the face of all this destruction, he didn't know. It wasn't that he didn't care what happened here, only that it would kill him if he was too slow to save his own friends, his own world.

"And I need all the information you have about Apophis, the Goa'uld and those Jaffa you insisted I'd be better off if I left alive," Jack countered with nothing that could be mistaken for patience.

"We still have the gate address for Chulak," Catherine reminded Daniel.

"And more reason than ever to strike back," Sam Carter said, looking bleakly around her at the SGA's Beta Site.

The site was impressive, given the short time they'd had for its construction, less than a year if the SGA had operated on a similar timescale to the SGC. The Stargate was standing in a hangar, doors on either side opened to their widest extent. Directly in front of the Stargate, but set a short distance back from the DHD, was a control room with a bank of monitors and computers, presumably to control the iris, staffed by a team of technicians and security forces. Another room held an armoury. There were aircraft runways either side of the hangar with various helicopters lined up one side and an array of military vehicles the other.

Behind some serious security fencing stood a huge military camp in regimented blocks of squat, domed barracks,  interspersed with  massive concrete warehouses, each several storeys high, and other large buildings of varying sizes. Construction was still under way on some. The roof of every structure bristled with solar panels, glinting in the strong sunshine. The roads and walkways between buildings were surfaced. Street lighting had been rigged. There were clear spaces, green spaces, sports facilities.

The land around the fenced camp was cleared for agriculture, the plain beyond the large, flourishing crop fields and embryonic orchards thick with animal herds, literal food on the hoof. Oil derricks peppered the plain where the herds roamed. An immense forest was visible in the far distance; a dense, darkly green wall that rose to cover the foothills of an aggressively circling range of jagged mountains. Access roads crisscrossed the plain, penetrating into the forest.

A wide, easy river emerged from the forest to wind across the plain. Daniel noted the presence of a bridge, several substantial wind farms and more banks of solar panels beyond the river, before his eye followed its path down to a great lake or inland sea edged by white sand.

With the light and heat, power and fuel, food and water, all these natural resources, it was impressive, it was a chance at life, until you remembered this was all that was left of Earth and what was here represented not the world, but America, and not the people of America, but its armed forces and whatever Genesis list civilian contractors, scientists, doctors had been squeezed through the Stargate in time.

And then it was frightening.

No one had to make the decision to sever the last tie with home and leave the Stargate. A couple of humvees rolled into the hangar and a vaguely familiar tall, dark- haired man in cammos emerged from the first of them.

"General?" the officer called, looking across at their small group in some dismay. "This is the last of you?  What about the President?"

"Air Force One didn't make it," Jack said, marching across to him with Daniel in tow, not quite his prisoner but something close, a sober Catherine, Sam and Fraiser trailing them.

"Is our position compromised, Sir?" the officer asked. "Are we expecting reprisals?"

"I erased these co-ordinates from the dialling computer as soon as we obtained a lock," Sam said. "After the general activated the base auto-destruct, there was no time for the Jaffa to interrogate the dialling computer and the only visual display in the control room was the countdown. I think we're pretty secure here."

"For the moment," Catherine sighed, unable to prevent the comment escaping.

The officer was peering beyond them, searching faces among the personnel gathered at the Stargate. "Colonel Hammond?" he asked hesitantly.

"Didn't make it," Jack said shortly, a hard, defensive look in his eyes that suggested he knew how many people he'd lost and how often he was going to have to say this exact thing to the ones who'd made it.

The officer gave way to a flash of anger, scowling in Daniel's direction. "And this gentleman did?"

"Davis," Daniel recalled with an effort, now he could focus in on the man's face. "We met once before."

"We've never met, Sir," Davis contradicted, flat and impatient.

"Major Davis, Pentagon liaison for the SGC," Daniel said tiredly.

"SGC?" Davis frowned, glancing to the general for enlightenment.

"Dr. Daniel Jackson," Jack introduced him dryly. "He's from another dimension. In more ways than one."

"General," Catherine chided him before smiling at Davis. "It's good to see you, Major."

"Likewise, Dr. Langford."  Davis summoned up a smile for her. "And you too, Dr. Carter. We need your expertise. Less than fifty per cent of the Genesis personnel made it through and we're coming up short on hard sciences."  He pulled a rueful face at Sam. "Let's just say the lead guy we're stuck with comes up long on arrogance and short on people skills. He's even arguing with his own sister."  He looked inquisitively at Daniel, ready to catalogue him as a possible resource.

"Dr. Jackson speaks Goa'uld," Jack said. "The only one of us who does."

"I'm not one of you," Daniel contradicted. "My people are on the other side of the mirror that brought me here."

"Your people?" Davis said, looking Daniel over, quiet, assessing. "Do they have any resources we can tap into?  Reinforcements?  Weapons?"

Daniel startled them all with a choke of harsh laughter, unflinching when Jack's glare strove to plant him six feet under. "You have security forces but few scientists," he said, trying to explain the insane irony of it. "Jack -- General O'Neill -- in place of a duly elected president and a population that looks to be predominantly male as well as military. The last thing you should be looking for is more creative ways to kill the few of you who're left. Your responsibility now isn't to fight or to die, but to live."

"That's easy to say when you still have a home to go back to," Sam said. "A family."  She fought it, but her shadowed eyes filled with tears she immediately dashed away, angry at herself for this show of emotion.

"Mark," Daniel said softly. He might have said more but they were all staring at him as if he had two heads again and the surrealism killed his sympathy. He hardly needed the reminder he didn't belong here. "You should consider coming back with me," he said impulsively to Jack. "All of you."

Major Davis intervened smoothly as a murmur ran through the watching crowd of security forces, moving to open the rear door of the humvee. "Let's table that discussion for now. Your team leaders are assembled and waiting to brief you, General O'Neill," he said with a formality that seemed ludicrous in these circumstances.

Jack nodded tersely, propelling Daniel into the rear of the vehicle before climbing in after him. "Follow me to the Command Post," he ordered Sam, Catherine and Fraiser. "I'll need your input on logistics."

Davis closed the door and took his own seat, the humvee pulling away before Sam could respond to this.

Daniel would have happily traded places with her. Jack was keeping him closer than he kept his own fiancée, every word and look he directed at Daniel loaded with some deeper significance. It was clear he thought Daniel was dangerous, a wildcard, his impact on the people around him some kind of insidious threat Jack felt compelled to contain. He should've let Daniel go already.

"Maybe the most useful thing I can do for you is give you the gate addresses of our allies," Daniel said. "Peaceful and self-sustaining human populations you can trade with, share resources with or even in time co-habit with if you're looking to survive as a species."  He turned to Jack to find the man staring at him. "That's if you're prepared to entertain options that will help these people live rather than die." 

He'd been caught out already, naively handing over the co-ordinates for Chulak and realising his error barely in time to prevent Jack murdering the Jaffa. Now he was determined the intelligence Jack extracted from him would not be military in nature. He was not about to aid in the continuation of a war that had already been lost. If that meant he had to treat Jack just this side of hostile, then so be it. They'd be well-matched.

"Which populations?" Davis asked while Jack's eyes burned into Daniel as they had every time he'd looked to the man in this reality.

"I have questions, issues you need to address before you get answers."  Daniel's tone was non-threatening but implacable, the conditions he was setting for this exchange of information non-negotiable.

"Does nothing scare you?" Jack said, a hint of amused admiration sneaking out despite his best efforts. "You're in no position to dictate terms, Dr. Jackson."

"You're mistaken," Daniel said mildly. "I have the advantage here."

Jack looked as if he would vehemently argue this point but Daniel beat him to the punch.

"You forget that I know you, Jack. I know you very well."

This calm expression of confidence antagonised Jack like Daniel had spit in his eye.

Daniel had to admit he was becoming quite intrigued. If pushed, he'd own up privately to rather enjoying being the persistent thorn in Jack O'Neill's side, but he'd never had an effect quite like this on the man he knew. He was used to opposing his Jack, oftentimes on points of principle, but here, the mere fact of his existence seemed more than General Jack could take. Of course Daniel wanted to know why.

"I'm going to help you," he promised Jack impulsively. "Whether you want me to or not."

Major Davis, a very proper officer, gaped at him. Then he caught the general's eye, turned around in his seat and subsided.

"Before you get started," Daniel went on with some certainty of the direction Jack was about to steer this discussion. "I always listen to you. It's just that I don't agree with most of the things you say."  If it was recklessness or mischief that moved him, he couldn't say, but he wasn't done with Jack. There was a very satisfying freedom in his short-term occupancy of this reality. "And I don't think you should have most of the things you seem to want. They never work out for you."

"And you do?" Jack said, openly sneering.

"Yes," Daniel said, candid in a way he might never be with his Jack. "I do." 

"The Jack O'Neill in your reality is a better man than me, is that what you're saying?" Jack asked, sarcasm very evident.

Daniel glanced at him thoughtfully. "More evolved than you, I would say. Better-adjusted, if you like."

What Jack liked remained a moot point. Major Davis announced they were at the CP, jumped out of his seat and opened Jack's door for him almost before the vehicle had stopped. Then he inserted himself physically between the combatants before hostilities could be renewed. A political operator, he had pretty good instincts. In both realities.

The Command Post turned out to be a neatly contained and fortified complex with an enclosed central hallway built in a square around a courtyard, barracks-type buildings radiating out at right angles from that square on three sides while the fourth held the main entrance, under heavy guard. A more substantial three storey concrete building virtually filled the interior courtyard, a literal hub, each side of it linked by an access corridor to the central hallway.

They weren't greeted by the buzz of productive activity when they entered. The complex was quiet, the personnel gathering silently in the central hallway, searching Jack's face with strained eyes.

"You should say something," Daniel murmured to Jack. "Let them know what's happening."

"I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, Dr. Jackson."

"Consider it a perk of my temporary residence here."

Jack ignored this provocation. "I'm well aware of my responsibilities."

"That remains to be seen."

Daniel sincerely hoped Jack would move past his desire for vengeance, this terrible need of his to strike back, but he couldn't quite bring himself to believe the man would. There was nothing to be gained from the murder of innocents on Chulak and he intended to make this absolutely clear when the opportunity arose.

"General O'Neill?  Is Dr. Jackson accompanying us to the briefing?"  Major Davis asked, moving out ahead of them to swipe his ID card and secure entry to the Command Post itself.

"He's with me," Jack replied absently, as if this wasn't in question.

Keep your enemies closer, Daniel thought ironically. What little equilibrium he'd recovered during the short journey from the Stargate to the Command Post was jolted by an unexpected presence among the banks of computers, monitors, sensors and communications equipment.

"Kawalsky!" he said, smiling.

"General?  Who is this?"  Kawalsky jerked a thumb in Daniel's direction.

"Sorry," Daniel apologised. "You're dead in my reality."

"Of course he is," Jack said heavily.

"Sarcasm never gets old with you," Daniel commented. "Which is ironic in this instance, given you're the one who killed him." 

He would never have said this to his Jack, not if his life depended on it. It would have been beyond cruel. Only this man was colder and more deliberate than Jack had ever been, that first dark impulse to end his pain and grief in suicide hardened by surviving the mission he'd completed as ordered, then promotion. The Jack that Daniel knew had made a choice for life on Abydos, saved its people and saved himself in the process, retired after the mission to get his head straight. This Jack had never taken that time. Never moved on. Blunt was about the only thing that could get his attention.

"Ferretti." Daniel greeted another old friend with a slight smile, glad to see the same humour lines and sharp curiosity he knew.

The same couldn't be said of the third man, about the last of the SGC's personnel Daniel would want to see in a position of influence in this situation, where mere survival was scarcely a tenable prospect. There were already too many trigger-happy Type A personalities involved.

"Colonel Makepeace," he said coolly.

"Who is this guy?" Kawalsky demanded again, hardly in the mood for Daniel's 'psychic' act.

"I think he's the archaeologist who turned down Dr. Langford's job offer of translating the cartouche that was the key to opening the Stargate," Major Davis supplied, proving he'd read every scrap of paper to come out of the Stargate programme.

"I couldn't have been completely uncooperative," Daniel interjected. "Or you'd still be calling it 'Doorway to Heaven,' and Catherine wouldn't have been so defensive about 'referencing' my work. I must have at least translated the inscription for her."

"I'll ask," Jack said. If he hoped to catch Daniel out...

"Do."  Daniel smiled at the baffled Charlie Kawalsky. "If it helps balance things out for you, I'm dead in this reality."  It didn't appear to. Surrealism had more than Daniel by the throat, it seemed.

"Does anyone know what the hell you're talking about?" Jack asked irritably. "In any reality?"

"Only if they let me talk."

"As entertaining as this all is?" Makepeace said. "General?  What's our situation?"

"All fucked up," Jack said evenly, leading them into the briefing room Major Davis indicated before saying more. It was surprisingly luxurious, filled with dark polished woods, the concrete walls softened with tall windows framed by plush blue velvet drapes, presidential and SGA insignia. The briefing table was large, with a bank of hi-tech phones, speakers, monitors and other equipment built into the centre of it. Laptops were stationed around the table and there were large display monitors on the walls behind the head and foot of the table. "Air Force One was taken out by one of the Goa'uld mother ships en route to the SGA. We're on our own."  In mute emphasis of this, Jack sat, taking the President's place at the head of the briefing table

"Did we get the bastard?" Kawalsky asked fiercely, clenching his fists.

"Yeah," Jack said, his face softening to dark satisfaction. "We got the bastard good. Dr. Jackson here told us that when you see Apophis's First Prime Teal'c, Apophis himself is in the game, running the play. They set that mothership down on top of Cheyenne Mountain and we blew it up in their faces."

The jubilation of the soldiers was short lived.

"What are our casualties, Sir?" Major Davis asked.

"Estimated one point five billion."

There was absolute silence, the number too colossal, too unimaginable, to be real to them.

"The Goa'uld attacked in force," Jack went on. "Striking at major population centres on every continent, systematically wiping us out."

"But if Apophis is dead..." Ferretti spoke up.

"Dr. Jackson?" Jack shot Daniel a challenging, assessing look. "If Apophis is dead?"

"Another Goa'uld will fight to take his place. Likely a lower ranking Goa'uld from within his own court, or a rival like Nirrti. Punishing the people who killed the Supreme System Lord Ra as well as Apophis will cement that Goa'uld's position among the other System Lords and ensure they hold on to the territories once claimed by Apophis."

"By punishing, you mean killing?" Jack questioned.

"Yes," Daniel said quietly. "I mean killing. Teal'c told us -- it's a common Goa'uld tactic. The motherships will most likely withdraw and bombard Earth from orbit."

"As an example to others," Makepeace commented.

"And because of the power struggle sparked by the death of Apophis," Daniel said. "The Goa'uld will be looking for an unequivocal victory."

"So how do we strike back?" Kawalsky snapped, banging his fist on the table.

The men were looking to Jack but Jack looked to Daniel, sitting isolated at the opposite end of the table. "We don't," Jack said slowly, noting but not responding to the vitriolic outburst of frustration from his officers. He was bemused by Daniel's relieved, approving smile. "Not directly."

"Not directly?" Kawalsky glowered.

"The Jaffa," Jack said, still looking to Daniel. "Right?"

"Right," Daniel said. "The Jaffa. Enslaved for generations by false gods. And now two of those false gods have been killed by lowly humans. Free humans. When Apophis's replacement looks to secure the loyalty of his Jaffa, the man he'll turn to will be Master Bra'tac, Teal'c's predecessor as First Prime. Bra'tac might mourn Teal'c's death, he might even hate us for killing him, but he lives for one goal, and that's to free his people from the Goa'uld. In killing the supposedly immortal and all-powerful god Apophis, we couldn't have handed him better ammunition for his cause."

"So, we sit back and wait for our enemies to destroy themselves?" Kawalsky asked angrily, unable to see the logic in this.

"The only other alternative you have is to nuke Chulak, wipe out any possibility of a resistance movement and bond the Jaffa even more powerfully to the Goa'uld in revenge against humanity for their tragedy," Daniel said coldly. "Currently, the Goa'uld prey on the enslaved human populations for hosts. In my reality, we've been able to free some of them from that, earning their friendship and alliance. If the Goa'uld start slaughtering them in punitive attacks, you tell me how friendly they'll be when you turn up asking for their help. And you will need their help."

"This is why I'm listening to you?" Jack had this odd half-smile and more than a trace of bitterness when he spoke. "You think you have all the answers?"

"No, Jack," Daniel said patiently. "I just know I have more answers than you."

"Excuse me?" Kawalsky said, straightening aggressively in his chair.

"Our Stargate has taken us a hell of a lot further than yours has taken you," Daniel explained. "It seems like all the options you have are ones I'm bringing to the table."  He looked directly into Jack's eyes. "This is why you're listening to me."

"This is why we can't let you go," Makepeace said. "If you know as much as you claim to, you're a priceless intelligence asset."

"You gave your word," Daniel said to Jack, alarmed.

"And I'll keep it."  Jack's challenging gaze never wavered. "But you need to give me twenty-four hours."

"My reality might not have that much time," Daniel said. "If the attack has already happened here, it's imminent there. The ships could already be on their way. I have to go now."

"Send a message back to your reality," Jack said as Sam Carter walked into the briefing room with Catherine and Dr. Fraiser. "Film us the same way you filmed your own people. If seeing our alternates in action convinced me, it'll convince my alter ego in your reality."

"Especially if I'm dead like you say," Kawalsky said.

While the women took seats at the briefing table, Davis picked up one of the hi-tech phones and made a call requesting a camcorder.

Daniel's sense of urgency had not diminished, but his own sense of fairness stifled his objections. He couldn't argue that Jack was being reasonable, maybe even generous, with his back against the wall like this.

"It's a fair compromise," Catherine said. "Your people get their warning, and we get the help we need so desperately if we're going to survive."

"I'll send a team to -- what is it?" Jack said.

"P3R-233," Sam said.

"Kawalsky, you'll take care of it?" Jack said.

Kawalsky shrugged carelessly. "They can only kill me twice."

"The mirror is in a lab to the left of the Stargate," Daniel told him. "It's made of a dark, irregularly shaped stone and it's big enough for a man to walk through. The surface will show the same lab as it appears in my reality. You won't be reflected in its surface. You can't miss it."

"Now, about these people you said you've traded with," Jack said to Daniel.

"I have questions," Daniel said. "As you keep reminding me, I don't know you. What I do know about you is that you sent a bomb to Abydos, killing a lot of innocent people in the process, including the woman I married in my own reality, and that you were ready to do the same to the people of Chulak."  

"We had no choice on Abydos," Jack said. "The activation of the Stargate caused the alien you call Ra to land his ship right on top of the pyramid. He captured my team."

"I'm assuming Ra enhanced the destructive capability of your warhead and tried to send it through to Earth, only you escaped through the gate instead, leaving him and his people to die in the explosion," Daniel said.

"How'd you know that?" Ferretti asked, torn between amazement and annoyance.

"Without me there to communicate with the Abydonians, there was no way for you to identify the seven symbols required for Earth's gate address or determine the order of alignment. You would have been trapped there if Ra hadn't opened the Stargate for you." Daniel said. "I have problems with what you did, Jack, but I am prepared to accept that without the help of the people in overthrowing Ra, you felt you had no recourse."

"Good of you," Jack said, his sarcasm with a flavour of ice this time.

"Your SGA -- it wasn't really functional, was it?" Daniel speculated. "Not as I understand it. Without the Abydos cartouche, the necessary corrections for Doppler shift, or me, you weren't out there exploring, were you?"

"We found this place alright," Kawalsky said.

"Cold dialling?" Daniel asked Sam. "Co-ordinates close enough to Earth, so that as with Abydos, you didn't have to correct for Doppler Shift."

She looked startled. "How did you…oh, of course. My alternate in your reality."

"The SGC started working immediately on the Stargate addresses I found after excavating the Abydos cartouche while the SGA focused all its efforts on cold dialling," Daniel said. "We've established a secondary base off-world, but not at these coordinates. What I don't understand is how and why you have such a substantial camp constructed, but only had time to bring through half the people on the Genesis list. And what is it that sustained the SGA without the potential technological gains from exploration?"

"I guess you don't have all the answers," Makepeace said, watching Daniel with an odd amusement.

"Did Apophis come through the gate in this reality?" Daniel asked. "You realised Ra was not the only alien threat, and that the Goa'uld were seemingly aware of not only your existence, but your location."

"You do have some tactical awareness," Makepeace said.

"That explains the SGA, but what about this camp?"

"Oil," Jack said simply.

"You saw the derricks?" Sam said. "Those are just the start of the operation here. The oil fields at least equal those on the continental United States and, like the rich mineral deposits our long range surveys have detected here, they're untouched. We hoped in time to offset the cost of the SGA programme." 

"The camp was being built already, you just took advantage at the last minute to try to save some people with your Genesis list," Daniel said.

"Give the man a big cigar," Ferretti said.

"I'm guessing the fifty per cent who didn't make it through were the international contingent?" Daniel said.

"We do have three Canadians," Davis said, a stickler for accuracy.

Daniel shook his head, despairing.

"And now we have you, Dr. Jackson," Davis said. "You're an intelligent man, to have figured all of this out so readily."

"Three doctorates," Daniel said. "And my residence is strictly temporary."

There was a knock at the briefing room door and an SF entered with a camcorder Davis took from him, dismissing the man with his thanks. He immediately turned the camera on, training it on the faces of each of the SGA personnel around the briefing table, before coming to rest on Daniel.

"Hey, Jack," Daniel said to the camera. "Sorry. I screwed up big time. Touched that mirror and accidentally sent myself to another reality. Talk to Sam about that. She knows about the, the multi-verse, I guess you'd call it. The alternate realities that spring up every time one us makes a different decision than the others of us. Like a reality where I came to heel when called and never touched that mirror. Anyway, I'm okay and I should be back home in twelve…"

"Twenty-four," Jack interrupted.

Davis swung the camera his way.

"Twelve to twenty-four hours," Daniel finished. "This is you, by the way. The you here. You're a general here and a, kind of a jerk. You're engaged to the Sam here, who's a civilian. Catherine apparently opened the Stargate without me, I'm dead here anyway, but Kawalsky isn't."

Davis panned the camera from Sam to Catherine, from Catherine to Kawalsky.

"The important thing is that the Earth in this reality was attacked by the Goa'uld. Apophis," Daniel said. "In reprisal for killing Ra. Apophis was jostling for Ra's position as Supreme System Lord. His fleet of ships arrived in orbit over this Earth about forty-eight hours or so ago and began systematically wiping us out from orbit. Just like the planet at P3R-233. Bombardment from space. Teal'c led the attack here, and he'll know the tactics Apophis will use there. I'm with a small group of survivors from the Stargate programme who fled to an off-world base."  He paused, trying to throw as much weight behind his words as he could. "Look, Jack. You need to take this seriously. Lives depend on it. What happened here could be happening to you too. We know where the attack originated from, we have those co-ordinates. The people from 233 sent us this message. 'Beware the destroyers. They come from 3, 32, 16, 8, 10 and 12.'  It's a code and the DHD on 233 is the cipher. 1 is the point of origin for 233, the only unique symbol, then count forward. I have the gate address here."  He fished into his pocket, smoothed out the crumpled paper and held up the co-ordinates to the camera, Davis obligingly zooming in. "Go to these coordinates and stop the attack."

"Davis," Jack said.

Davis obediently trained the camera on him.

"This is to my alternate," Jack said, directly addressing the camera in the way Daniel had. "We need Daniel's help reaching out to touch the people you've made contact with in your reality. We'll send him back to you in twenty-four hours. If it can be done, we'll do it."

"Anything else?" Davis asked.

"One thing," Daniel said. "Jack, don't waste time trying to get me back. I'm safe for now. Just get to those co-ordinates, stop the attack."   

Davis looked to Jack, then stopped filming at his nod.

"Kawalsky, I want you take SG-2 through to P3R-233 and send that camera through the mirror to Dr. Jackson's reality," Jack ordered. "Then report back here."

"You got it," Kawalsky said, taking the camera from Major Davis and heading out.

"SG-2?" Daniel said, frowning. "I thought…but…who leads SG-1?"

"Colonel Makepeace is my senior team leader," Jack said.

Daniel looked across at Catherine. "You said there were differences here." 

"Differences, yes. You think you have a problem with me, Dr. Jackson?" Makepeace asked, calm and direct. "You don't know me."

"I know you think Jack should keep me here against my will."

"With the knowledge you have?  Knowledge we don't?  Even you can't argue that we need you, Dr. Jackson, or you wouldn't be giving us twenty-four hours," Makepeace said. "Don't confuse a statement of fact, recognition of tactical reality, with a statement of intent."

"Have you wasted enough of our time?" Jack asked Daniel with awful politeness. "Or are you ready to give up something useful now?"

"Can you get your archaeologist in here, your anthropologist?" Daniel asked Davis. "They should hear this. Advise after I'm gone."

"Dr. Langford's here," Davis said.

"Catherine's an Egyptologist," Daniel said, glancing apologetically at her. No disrespect intended. "One who's focused intensively, almost exclusively on the Stargate. A background in Egyptology is helpful in understanding the culture of the Goa'uld, but…"

"But…?" Jack mimicked.

"The People of Light on the planet designated P3X-797," Daniel said. "They have a year-long growing season, rich soil, plentiful crops of cereals, vegetables and fruit. They have livestock, fowl, fish. They weave silks and craft beautiful ceramics. They're a warm, gentle people who honour the gods, and whose culture is based on the ancient Minoan. The people on Cimmeria are workers of wood, metal, leather. Artisans, farmers, fighters who worship Thor, the Norse god that protects them from the Ettins, the Goa'uld. These days, when the men of Cimmeria go a-Viking, they go to the towns to look for work. The Shavidai, the people of the steppes, are Mongols. Warlike, clannish, weavers of wool and cloth, makers of incredibly powerful medicines. The Byrsa clans of Cartago are based on a peculiar fusion of the ancient Greek and Roman. They've been hunted by the Goa'uld for centuries but they have a beautiful culture and they will never leave anyone behind."

"The anthropologist we recruited was Professor Lindel Haaken, emeritus professor at Harvard," Davis said, flipping open a laptop and tapping keys. He read something on the screen, his face tightening. He looked up apologetically at Jack.

"You're going to need more than a copy of Encyclopedia Britannica," Daniel said, angry and sorry and guilty. At their lack of foresight, their tragedy.

"We're going to need you," Catherine said, unnecessarily.

"What did you say those doctorates were?" Ferretti said sourly.

"Archaeology, anthropology and philology," Catherine said.

"Exactly what's needed!" Sam said, frustrated.

"Won't you stay?" Catherine asked, barely short of pleading. "You've warned your people, Dr. Jackson. Can't you stay?"

"We have the mirror," Daniel said. "I already offered help from my reality."

"A technology we know nothing about, a technology we can't control," Sam said.

"What about the remote?  The device that activated the mirror, the one I brought through with me from P3R-233?" Daniel asked.

"It was in the briefing room with the rest of the artefacts," Sam said, addressing herself to Jack, not Daniel, her tone somewhere between apology and explanation. "When the Jaffa attacked in force…I never made it back up there."

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Daniel demanded.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Sam said, finding something of Jack's sarcasm. "I should've been thinking about you, a stranger, and not my dead brother, or my Dad, or my niece, or…."  Choking on tears, she abruptly pushed away from the table, turning her back. Whether she was giving in to grief, or fighting for control, they couldn't tell.

"I know how selfish I must seem," Daniel said hesitantly, wishing he could harden his heart against them.

"You want to stop this happening to your reality," Jack said. "We'd all do the same, given the chance."

"But you're not going to let me go until we're done here, are you?"

"Your people have been warned. That's all we can do for them."

"Providing the mirror works!" Daniel said.

"Out of our control now. If it doesn't work, all the more reason for your focus to be here," Jack said. "Tell me more about these Norse gods, these enemies of the Goa'uld."

Jack was right. Of course he was right. If the mirror didn't work, if the connection between Daniel's reality and this reality had been severed, it didn't matter whether Daniel was on P3R-233 or here. Knowing the fix he was in didn't materially change the outcome. It was only his illusion of control that was ebbing.

"The Asgard," he said quietly. "One of four alien races that joined together in what we believe to be an ancient alliance. Cimmeria is under the protection of Thor, Supreme Commander of the Asgard Fleet. A weapon was placed there, Thor's Hammer, which transports Goa'uld and Jaffa to an underground labyrinth prison from which escape is impossible. Thor's Hammer destroys Goa'uld parasites, leaving the host alive to exit the prison freely. The Goa'uld are so afraid of this weapon, all Jaffa are taught the symbols for Cimmeria so none ever go there accidentally."

"Do you have the symbols for the gate address?" Sam asked, returning to the briefing table. "Can you sketch them for me?"  She accessed the laptop designated for her position at the table, using it to activate the large screen on the wall behind Jack's chair at the head of the table. When she entered a password, a database appeared on screen, very similar to the one the SGC had for its gate addresses. "You'll need the point of origin for this world."  She displayed this on screen for him while Davis slid across a notepad and pen.

"It's Cimmeria," Daniel said. "C, double m."  He sketched out the gate symbols, then added those for Simarka, the Land of Light and Cartago. "Remember what I said. These people are complete innocents by our standards. Don't destroy their cultures, Jack. Don't give them weapons. Trade with them. The People of Light need help with a parasitic virus that's ravaged their population, one we have the cure for. Chlorpheniramine maleate."

"The virus is histaminolytic?" Fraiser asked, frowning over this.

"That's right. If you cure the Touched, the family members who've contracted this virus, High Councillor Tuplo and the People of Light will be your friends for life. The Byrsa are favoured by the Goa'uld as hosts. Give them an iris so we can trade with them while they lock the Goa'uld out. Water's been scarce on Cimmeria, crops are poor and the people are desperate for work. You need help with construction here, building homes, not just barracks. You'll need their wood and metal work, their ceramics. The Cimmerians need help with irrigation -- we have the engineers, the construction crews, right?  The Shavidai of Simarka don't just have revolutionary new medicines, they're famous for their cloth. All these people have something to offer, something you need now or will need in time. Just respect them. Trade with them fairly."

"It's not in our interests to do anything else," Jack said.

"Our resources here are extremely limited," Fraiser said. "Our stocks of medical and other supplies will quickly diminish and we are not set up for large-scale production."

"Think of us as a cross between a military base and a research facility, a university if you will," Catherine said.

"It has to be more," Ferretti said, surprising them with his sincerity. "Has to be. My wife is here. My kids."

"We're building a community, Major, a colony," Fraiser said to him. "Don't doubt it. We have families, a fully-equipped and staffed hospital, a school, teachers, even a library. There's a chance for the people here to live, not just survive."

"I hate to be the one to say it," Davis said. "But speaking in strictly logistical terms, the fact only fifty per cent of the Genesis travellers made it through is going to work in our favour initially. As large as this facility is, as much as we've done to make it habitable, I was deeply concerned about the effects of overcrowding on top of the emotional shock of the attack on Earth and our losses there. Some of our key specialists are going to have to double up, work extra areas to fill the gaps left by those who didn't make it through, but the living space we have, the resources we've marshalled, they're going to stretch that much further."

"We are going to be facing a lot of stress, a lot of emotional problems," Fraiser said. "And not only from the civilians and families. Everyone here has lost family members, friends, homes, a way of life. That first shock of relief from being saved, consider it a grace period. It won't last. The more time that passes, the more people will realise the true cost, the true consequences of being saved. There is going to have to be some latitude, General. Our people will need time to mourn what they've lost and they will need time to heal."

"Noted, Doctor," Jack said.

"Your officers may be more valuable to us for their education than their military experience," Catherine said.

"You said we were coming up short on hard sciences?" Sam prompted Davis.

"We're well represented in astrophysics, with both you and Dr. Rodney McKay. In fact, we have two McKays. Or rather a McKay and a Mrs. Miller, a theoretical physicist. She's…much easier to deal with."

"A sibling wasn't considered immediate family under Genesis rules," Sam snapped.

"Dr. McKay is a self-professed genius," Davis said. "He insisted his sister is smarter than he is, and the evidence to date supports his claims. She and McKay did something that upped the efficiency of our solar power generation by 17 per cent. We also have Dr. Bill Lee. Not as smart as McKay but not nearly as noisy."

"I know McKay's work," Sam said. "He's an arrogant SOB who claims everyone's ideas as his own, but he is brilliant. I can work with him."

"Obviously, given the original purpose of the facility, we have numerous engineers, geologists, industrial chemists," Davis said. "We don't have equivalent teams of biologists, botanists, zoologists, ecologists and the like. We have one of each. If that. There is no redundancy here, no contingency. This greatly concerns me. We prioritised medical personnel, certain sciences, those that could contribute to furthering military, defence and medical objectives, and the rest, those positions we deemed non-essential, we held out to our overseas allies." He looked around ruefully. "I'm afraid we didn't anticipate our tactical priorities would be determined by mythology, dead languages and cultures."

"Then we'd better not waste any more of Dr. Jackson's limited time," Makepeace said.

"Look, I know I'm an outsider here," Daniel said. "But a military base, a research facility, a community, a colony…can you be all of those things?  Are you looking for ways to fight the Goa'uld, or to hide from them, ways to survive, or ways to live?  Do you want to open yourselves to new experiences, new ways to live, or hold on to the past?  Those planets, those people I can direct you to, they can help you sustain the population you have, they can help you enrich your lives, find some comfort again. If you want more, you need to look further. You need to get out and start exploring. You need to secure allies with advanced technology, like the Asgard and the Nox."

"The Nox?" Jack queried.

"An advanced alien culture we have directly encountered," Daniel explained. "Their technology appears very different than that of the Asgard, but equally, if not more sophisticated. They have an aerial city they can cloak invisibly and they can bring people back from the dead."

"Riiight," Jack drawled. "Invisible flying cities. Zombies. Gotcha."

"Yeah, all that and more, Jack. Much, much more. They learned English in a matter of hours and they can activate the Stargate with just their minds," Daniel said. "And then there's you. With that winning combination of ignorance, arrogance and condescension, you're really going to knock their pacifist socks off."

"Where do you get off…" Ferretti started to say angrily, but Jack put up a hand, cutting off his tirade almost before it started.

"I just…I don't know how to help you," Daniel said. Not an apology. Compassion, maybe. "I don't know what to do for the best, not in the time I have."  

"If you were staying," Jack said. "What would you do?"

"I'd make contact with the Cimmerians, the People of Light, the Shavidai, the Byrsa, use what I know to help them, then I'd let them help us. And each other. Then, I'd go to Abydos if I could. I'd excavate the cartouche. Find out if the Goa'uld have mapped this planet, or if it's one of the worlds only known to the original gate builders."

"Wait a minute!" Sam protested.

"The Goa'uld's didn't build the Stargate system?  You're certain of that?" Catherine asked. She pulled an impatient face. "What am I saying?  Of course you're certain. You've been right about everything else, you have to be right about this too."

"We've visited a world that wasn't on the Abydos cartouche," Daniel said, loathe to discuss Ernest with Catherine in front of all these people. The odds were -- that storm -- it was likely Ernest was dead in this reality. It just wasn't the time to bring it up.

"With the radiation, is an excavation even possible?" Jack asked Sam.

"The cartouche was located in a chamber deep underground, a couple of miles from the Stargate," Daniel said.

"That would offer limited protection," Sam said thoughtfully. "With radiation suits, careful monitoring and strictly curtailed exposure, it might be possible. I stress might."

"You think it's worth the risk?" Jack asked.

Daniel's smile was wry. "You asked me what I would do, Jack. That's what I would do. Is it worth the risk?  I always think so."

"That's…frank," Jack said, a glint of something like satisfaction in his eyes.

"Well, you don't know me. You won't have time to get to know me. And if you're acting on my advice, you have to be able to trust it. You have to follow it, or you could wind up destroying not just the people depending on you here, but the people I'm leading you to out there."

"Honesty is the best policy?"

"Between us?" Daniel said. "Always."

Jack was about to say something in response to this when the phones rang, lights flashing on each extension in the central bank. Davis, who seemed to be functioning as Jack's aide, answered on his extension.

"It's Major Kawalsky," Davis reported. "Reporting from P3R-233."

"Patch him through," Jack instructed.

Davis punched a button and they heard static.

"General?" Kawalsky asked.

"Report, Major," Jack said.

"We found the mirror in the lab right where Dr. Jackson said it would be, Sir, and I can confirm we sent the video camera through to the other reality. The camera was clearly visible on the floor of the other lab. At least it was for a few seconds. Then the mirror went dark."

Daniel froze.

"Seems completely dead now, Sir. What do you want us to do?"

"Bring it back to base for analysis?" Sam suggested. "Even without the control, it may be possible for us to activate it again."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Jackson," Catherine with what seemed genuine sympathy. "I know you've been cushioned from this nightmare, hoping to go back to your own reality. And now…"

"You feel the way the rest of us do," Sam said.

"Do as Dr. Carter suggests, Major," Jack said. "Bring the mirror back to base."

"Yes, Sir. Kawalsky out."

"If honesty really is the best policy for us," Jack said to Daniel, the challenge back in his eyes. "Then I can't say I'm sorry you're sticking around. We need your intelligence."

"In more ways than one," Catherine said.

"I can't believe this is happening," Daniel said, his lips numbing, sickness rising in his tightening throat.

"Welcome to our world," Jack said.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Genesis  
> Author: Biblio  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Jack and Daniel  
> Category: Alternate Reality. Angst. Drama. Hurt/Comfort.  
> Date: April 2010.  
> Season/Spoilers: Season 1. An alternate reality springs from the events of "There But For The Grace Of God."  
> Synopsis: At the end of everything, Daniel Jackson provokes unexpected feelings from General Jack O'Neill and changes both their lives forever.

The physicists looked to be at the top of the scientific food chain on base. Their large, well-equipped labs were bristling with the latest technology in a concrete structure not far from the Command Post.

The physicists were also bristling.

"The main conclusion of Everett's many worlds interpretation is that the universe, or multi-verse in this context, is composed of a quantum superposition of infinitely many, increasingly divergent, non-communicating parallel universes or quantum worlds. Non-communicating!"

"That's Dr. McKay," Davis said to Daniel.

"Well, somebody figured it out!"

And that was Sam.

"Alternate reality guy is standing right there," Dr. Lee said.

Dr. McKay glanced at Daniel for perhaps a second before dismissing him as utterly irrelevant.  "How do you explain the fact there was no quantum mirror in this reality before AR guy there allegedly came through it?" he demanded of Sam.

"It's Dr. Jackson, right?"

And this was Mrs. Miller.

"I'm Jeanie," she said with a warm smile, offering her hand.

"Daniel."

"Sorry about Meredith," Jeanie said.

"Meredith?"

"He prefers Rodney."

"Meredith prefers to be right," Daniel said.

"If the quantum mirror didn't exist in this reality before your arrival, then your activation of the mirror with the control device transformed it here," Jeanie said.

"That's pretty much what happened," Daniel said.

"I'm speculating that the connection between our two realities remained active as a kind of failsafe, so that the traveller could return to the original reality in the event of the control device being lost," Jeanie said. "Sending the video camera through to your reality triggered the failsafe to sever the connection and power down."

"You have a remarkable grasp on reality for a physicist," Daniel said.

"My brother does too. This…" Jeanie jerked a thumb towards the combatants. "Is just his unbearably long-winded way of saying he doesn't know how the quantum mirror works and, while he'd rather die than admit it in plain English, he doesn't believe for a second he's going to be able to make it work again."  She smiled up at Daniel, her face as gentle as the hand she rubbed against his tight folded arms. "I'm sorry, Daniel. Did you want me to sugar coat it?"

"No," Daniel said, defeated. "No. I guess I knew. There's no point hanging on to false hope. All that talk of wavefunction collapse and decoherence went over my head, but I grasp the meaning of inert."

"The quantum mirror isn't like the Stargate, a superconductor that accepts energy in many forms," Jeanie said. "The mirror's activation is triggered by a specific device and the energy it generates. I'm not saying the mirror will never work, only that without the control device, it's extremely unlikely. Even if we could power it up, we'd have no means to direct it to connect back to your original reality. If the people in your reality manage to reactivate the mirror where we fail, without the control device, how could they possibly connect to this reality out of incalculable possibilities? I think your residence here is going to be long-term, Daniel, if not permanent."

Jeanie's confidence there'd be people left in Daniel's reality to work on the mirror, friends to care, was warming. His greatest fear was Jack not taking the threat seriously, hesitating when he needed to act, allowing himself to be diverted by Daniel's plight. This was one time Jack O'Neill was going to have to leave a man behind. Daniel's reliance was on General Hammond seeing they could save the world, not the man. Not this time. Hard on him, but he thought it was a small enough price to pay.

"Thank you, Mrs. Miller," Davis said. "I'll report that to the general."

"Now, what was the other thing you wanted?" Jeanie asked. "You said there were two urgent matters. What's the other?"

"Excavation of an underground chamber approximately two miles from the site of a naquadah-enhanced ten kiloton nuclear detonation two years ago," Davis said.

"Why?" Jeanie asked. "I mean, what's down there that's so important you'd even consider such a risky operation?"

"A cartouche," Daniel said. "Containing all the gate addresses to worlds mapped by the Goa'uld."

"Our future, Mrs. Miller," Davis said. "It we want to do more than merely subsist."

"Given the alternative, Major," Jeanie said wryly. "Merely subsisting looks pretty good to me right now."

"I excavated the cartouche in my own reality," Daniel said. "The chamber is sealed and intact. The work was in reaching it through the catacombs, which had to be manually cleared of sand. I estimate the roof of the chamber to be approximately forty feet below the surface."

"We go straight down?"

"It's the quickest and safest route," Daniel said. "We just need an opening in the chamber roof large enough to take a manoeuvrable, remote-operated camera that can be rotated to record the cartouche on the chamber walls."

"I think remote operation is the way to go," Jeanie said, heading to her brother. "Meredith!  Mer!"

"What?" McKay demanded, stopped mid-rant.

"Forget the quantum mirror," Jeanie instructed. "We've moved on."

"Moved on!"

"Without your permission, yes."  Jeanie punched him in the shoulder. "Now focus."

"Focus on what?"

"We need to set up a UAV for an aerial survey two miles from a Stargate irradiated by a ten kiloton nuclear blast two years ago."

"We're assuming the Stargate survived?" McKay said.

"I think we're screwed if it didn't."

"I presume you're talking about the gate on Abydos?" McKay said, turning to access a computer. "The Stargate there was in an antechamber below and a short distance away from the pyramid Ra's ship landed on."

"The device was detonated on the ship, not in the Stargate antechamber," Sam said. She turned to Daniel. "I didn't get a chance to bring this up in the briefing."

"More bad news?" Daniel said, looking at her face.

"I'm afraid so. We tried dialling the Abydos gate after the detonation. We weren't able to get a lock."

"There's a significant difference between that jerry-rigged Earth gate of yours and one properly calibrated to operate with a DHD," McKay said.

"The difference being…you?" Daniel hazarded.

Sam's lips twitched appreciatively.

"The difference being the incalculable array of dialling safety protocols this woman wilfully ignored," McKay retorted, failing to see the humour.

"If this Stargate and its DHD have those safety protocols intact, wouldn't it make it less likely to get a lock?" Sam enquired.

"Depends on who's operating it."

"What a crock!" Sam said. "If anything, the blast debris that sealed the gate might have settled. If there's an opening of any size, we might be able to override those dialling safety protocols and get a lock this time."

"This is a top priority," Davis said. "General O'Neill wants to proceed on this as soon as possible."

"I'll direct the efforts of the whole team on this project," Sam said confidently.

"Excuse me?" McKay said. "I'm lead scientist on the Genesis project."

"And I'm the SGA's lead scientist," Sam countered. "You work for me."

"I work for you?" McKay snapped. "I don't remember that in my contract. In fact, I took this job on the firm assurance I would have complete autonomy."

"You took this job on the firm assurance it would save your life," Sam said. "Would you like me to have Major Davis explain the chain of command to you?"

"I think that's our cue," Davis said in an aside to Daniel, showing some constructive cowardice. "Can either of you give me a percentage on this?  Something I can report back to the general?  In English, preferably."

"Snowball in hell's chance," McKay said.

"I'll figure it out," Sam said.

"I'll report that you're confident," Davis said.

"It's not their confidence that's in question," Jeanie said.

"Doctors, ma'am."  Davis switched on an inclusive, political smile and got while the going was good, taking Daniel with him.

"If you can get me access to the base computer, I'll input the gate addresses I know," Daniel offered when they were safely out of the building. "We haven't visited all of them, but I'll include what information I have. Get us…get the programme…started."

"Already set up, Doctor," Davis assured him. "With the intelligence, experience and qualifications you bring to the table, General O'Neill counts you among his senior staff. He's asked you be assigned the quarters originally intended for Colonel Hammond, and that I show you to the lab we had set up for Dr. Langford and Professor Haaken. I think you'll find we have more to offer you than Encylopedia Britannica. We have access to every US government and international academic database, research papers and journals from all fields of human endeavour. The library and the individual labs are well-stocked with key reference texts. A wish list, if you like, from each of the scientists and researchers chosen for the Genesis list."

Davis was expectant, waiting on an acknowledgement, a response of any kind, only Daniel didn't have it in him. He had nothing to say, could scarcely formulate a coherent thought. He walked through the hushed maze of the camp, putting one foot in front of the other, the effort of trying to orient himself in his surroundings taking everything he had.

The SGA senior staff were quartered across the road from the main entrance to the Command Post. Four domed barracks buildings, smaller but otherwise indistinguishable from any other, were set at right angles to the road, separated only by narrow walkways.

Davis swiped a security card to gain entry to the first building. Inside, the building was divided into two rooms with a corridor between. The door to one of the rooms stood open. The room intended for George Hammond. When Daniel obediently followed Davis into the room, he found a simple metal double bed, unmade, with folded plain grey sheets and blankets piled ready on it. A low bookcase and a large metal desk with phone and computer stood under a window at the foot of the bed. The bed was in front of an interior wall with a closet built in the corner and a door opening onto a small, utilitarian bathroom with toilet, sink and shower. The walls, the durable floor and venetian blinds at all three windows were shades of Air Force blue-grey. Sun streamed into the room, but the only view was of windows in the surrounding barracks.

"The executive suite," Davis joked lamely, conscious of Daniel's silence. "It's you and General O'Neill in this block, Colonel Makepeace and Major Kawalsky in the block next to this, Doctors Carter and Langford across and down from you, Doctor Fraiser and myself opposite. Major Ferretti and his family are in married quarters."

"I don't have…anything," Daniel said. "Just the clothes I'm standing in. The archaeology kit and journal I had in my pack. I'm not even sure where the pack is. I lost sight of it when Dr. Fraiser was treating me in the, the gateroom."

"The t-shirt and jacket will need to be replaced," Davis said. "The, uh, damage from the staff blast you took doesn't look reparable. Just jot down your clothing sizes and I'll have the quartermaster take care of it all."  He handed over a notebook and pen, rambling on while Daniel scribbled down his information. "You'll eat in the officer's mess. This is block 112, your quarters are 112B, the mess is block 129. That's five blocks over, three blocks down from here. The lab you'll be sharing with Dr. Langford is block 343. Not as bad as it sounds, five minutes or so walk from here, behind the CP."

"I'd like to see it." 

"Can I just get you to activate your security card first?  Swipe it, then choose a four digit pin at the prompt. Not one-two-three-four, or any combination from your date of birth, please."

Daniel did as he was told, selecting at random the pin he'd used for his ATM card.

"Are you okay, Dr. Jackson?" Davis asked as they walked out into the sunshine. "You seem…"

"I'm fine."

"Yes, Sir. We're all fine."  As if to prove it, Davis talked like a tour guide, or a verbal band aid, mapping out the PX, library, rec rooms, athletic track, football and baseball fields, basketball and multipurpose courts, gyms, pool, even a couple of bars. Daniel let it wash over him, uncaring, unheeding.

Block 343 was another domed barracks building, one of a pair surrounded on three sides by concrete storage facilities under visible guard. Catherine's name was stencilled on the door along with that of Professor Haaken, a sign above the door said 'Anthropology /Archaeology.' Immediately inside were two large offices, front walls partially glazed, Catherine's to the left, Daniel's to the right. And this one was Daniel's, or would be when the maintenance guy finished stencilling the 'son' at the end of Jack.

Catherine came out of her office to watch Daniel's reaction to his. A deep lab bench ran the length of the front wall of the office, both side walls were lined with shelves ready to take artefacts, the rear wall featured another full-length lab bench, this one with storage built-in beneath. He had a lot of expensive-looking electronic equipment, including a PC with a widescreen monitor and a state of the art scanner. Better than that, his own archaeology kit, his journal and that pen he liked -- those were set out on the lab bench, waiting for him.

"Thank you," he said, genuinely grateful.

"There's more," Catherine said, taking him out of the office and into the lab proper. "Much, much more. We've got the best of everything, Dr. Jackson. I made sure of it. A compact AMS for radiocarbon dating, ground penetrating radar, 3D laser scanning and reconstruction, Total Station Transit, handheld proton magnetometers."

"It's incredible."

"The building opposite is also yours," Davis said. "An archive and storage space."

"Small, but museum quality," Catherine said, her eyes gleaming. "Our reference library should hold everything you expect. It's a good core collection."

The walls were lined with books, not an inch of space wasted from floor to ceiling, or between the windows. Daniel skimmed the shelves, finding old friends and key texts, nodding measured approval.

"I thought this would make you feel a little better," Catherine said. "You may be cut off from the life you knew, but, like the rest of us, you still have the work you know. You still have a purpose. A place here, if you'll take it."

"It's…you're very generous," Daniel said inadequately.

"Enlightened self-interest," Davis said. "Now, General O'Neill left orders for you to eat and rest. You're to report to the CP at 07:00 to brief the general on making first contact with the People of Light. You'll excuse me?" 

"Come and sit down for a minute," Catherine invited, taking Daniel into her care as Davis strode away. "You haven't had a moment to yourself to think or reflect since you first walked through my Stargate."

"In my reality, you told me it was my Stargate," Daniel said, whimsical for no good reason. "And you gave me your pendant, the eye of Ra you'd worn since you were a girl, because it had brought you good luck."

"Did it bring you good luck?" Catherine asked.

"It brought me my wife."

"You must miss her very much."

"I do. But…I lost her before all this happened."  Daniel found himself looking at the floor, not at Catherine, unable to bring it into focus. "Sha'uri was taken as a host by the Goa'uld. Queen to Apophis. I hoped one day to find her and to free her."

"And now that hope is gone."

"Jack will keep looking. He'll keep his promise."

"Daniel?"

He looked up at her then, saw an old pain shadowing her face.  "Ernest went through the Stargate in 1945," he said quickly. "He was unable to return to you because the DHD was damaged beyond repair. In our reality, he lived alone for more than fifty years, imagining you were with him. You were his hope, Catherine."

"You found him?" she asked thickly, tears slipping.

"We took you to him. Together, we brought him home."

"In this reality?"

"There was a huge storm. Ernest said it came every year and that every year it did more damage to the structure the Stargate was in. It started to crash down around us, so much damage we barely made it through. We weren't able to re-establish a connection with the gate."

"You think Ernest is dead?"

"I think we'd have to try dialling those coordinates to be sure."

"I shouldn't be upset," Catherine said. "He's hardly more dead to me than he was a day ago or a year ago or a lifetime ago. The Stargate was my hope. What I lived for. But to hear that he was alive, all this time, just out of my reach?" She went still, startled comprehension and compassion for Daniel flooding her face. "Your wife is no further from you, no more lost to you in this reality than in the other," she said.

 "Rationalising it…"

"…doesn't make it any easier to bear."

"I have work to do." Not stonewalling Catherine, not quite. "Mission briefings to prepare, gate addresses to input."

People depending on him.

A purpose, if not a place.

Why should this reality be any different than his own?

 

 

Major Paul Davis was scarily efficient. When Daniel got back to his quarters a little after midnight, he found his name on the door, a bathroom full of essentials and a closetful of clothes. BDUs in blue, green and black, cammos for forest, desert, snow, black t-shirts with long sleeves, short sleeves or no sleeves, a sweater, three different kinds of socks, two different types of underwear, combat boots and glossy black dress shoes. The green boxers came with green t-shirts, which he guessed he was meant to sleep in. A bulky winter parka and padded pants, a lighter short jacket, the kind he wore on missions, a substantial fleece jacket, thermal long johns, gloves and knitted cap, rain gear, extra boots. Track suit, shorts, running shoes, swim trunks. There was a notepad on his desk, pens, pencils, eraser. An alarm clock. Also a note, telling him he could obtain a limited [and strictly rationed] range of civilian clothing at the PX, and he had to do his own laundry, nearest one block 168. The thousand other things he needed to know were apparently covered in the base directory. Which he should look at right away.

Daniel didn't care. 

He wanted so badly for his reality, his friends, to be safe, it tore him up inside. He wanted to believe them safe. Wanted to have that much faith in them. Wanted them to have faith in him, in his message to them. Wanted Jack, Sam and Teal'c, all of them to be alive and whole, moving on without him.

He knew in his gut he was never going home. Had known it with a sick certainty this whole time, long before Jeanie Miller spelled it out for him.

He would never know the fate of his friends. Not for sure. But he could and he would have trust.

Daniel peeled off his uniform, crawled into the shower and the blessed relief of hot water, not thinking, not moving. Not regimented, rationed, railroaded. He was sore, he was pissed, he was isolated and surrounded and completely fucking miserable.

The worst thing? 

It only meant he had everything in common with everyone else on this base.

He felt better, a strictly surface gloss better, for washing, brushing his teeth, pulling on his baggy green boxers, making his bed, falling into his bed. It did absolutely nothing for his state of mind to have to get right back out of his bed because some ass was banging on his door.

The ass was Jack. Who else?  Jack-ass with his smart mouth at half-cock, ready to roar, looking at Daniel, staring at Daniel. Seeing Daniel silenced, bone-weary, more than his skin bared. The expression on his face was complicated, unlike anything Daniel had ever seen there. Unreadable to him. Gentle fingers ghosted Daniel's cheek with the force of a blow, leaving him hot and loose and dazed.

"Get some rest," Jack said.

Then he was gone, his door closed behind him before Daniel pulled himself together enough to stumble back to bed.

Jack. The real Jack. The essence of him. The man Daniel knew was still with him, breaking through that cold, brittle anger. He found…comfort…in that.

 

 

"Mind if we join you?" Sam asked.

Daniel looked up from his breakfast tray to find Sam hovering with Catherine and Janet Fraiser. They took this for please do, Sam taking the chair next to him, Catherine and Janet sitting opposite.

"Don't let the looks deceive you," Sam said. "The food here is pretty good."

"It's not the food," Daniel said. "I was looking at my grapefruit and thinking what if I'd taken those sliced peaches instead?  Is that the kind of choice that launches an alternate reality, or does it take something earth-shattering, life-changing?  Peaches over grapefruit, is that what constitutes life-changing now?"

Sam opened her mouth.

"Sam, no!" Janet said. "Have some pity. Not this early in the morning, please."

Sam pouted, then she grinned, her blue eyes bright. She looked like herself again. They all looked better. The worst had happened. They'd survived the end of their world, time to start building a new one. It wasn't happiness, it wasn't healing. It was only necessity, the scramble for sanity, for focus and purpose. Easier to move than to think. Easier to do than to feel. Everyone's reality had shifted, not just Daniel's.

"You've been keeping that wound dry?" Janet asked.

"Yes," Daniel said, giving his toast lots of attention.

"Liar," she said. "Your hair's still wet. I'll take a look at it and change the dressing before we go into the briefing."

"You're coming to the Land of Light?"

"If you're using that much of my supply of Chlorpheniramine, you betcha. I want to make sure it's not wasted. I also want to pin down why only some of the People of Light are affected by this virus you describe and not others."

"We -- or rather you, Janet -- thought there was a naturally occurring antihistamine in their diet," Daniel said. "The people who became the Touched didn't eat it."

"A naturally occurring antihistamine is exactly what I'm hoping to find," Janet said. "I have to think long-term here. We have a finite supply of antibiotics and other common medicines. I need viable alternatives, and I need them fast, if we're going to analyse, trial and synthesise before those supplies run out."

"It's just one of the reasons we need to access that cartouche of yours on Abydos, Daniel," Catherine said.

"Even without it, we have a helluva lot more gate addresses to explore today than we had yesterday," Sam said. "You did a lot of valuable work yesterday, Daniel, updating our database. Thank you."

"I haven't been to all those worlds myself," Daniel cautioned. "Some haven't been visited at all by SG teams. I have no idea what we'll find there."

"You've opened up options for us," Sam said. "Options we didn't have before you came. It's generating a lot of good will, a lot of confidence."

Janet grinned at Daniel. "You have no idea how to respond to that, do you?"

"I have no idea how to respond to any of this," Daniel said, touched by her warmth. "In my reality, I was a member of SG-1. I was part of a team, an explorer, along with Sam, Jack and Teal'c. Now Teal'c is dead, Jack is the boss and Sam is…"

"Getting ready to kick Meredith McKay's arrogant ass."

"I don't think I can sit idly here on base waiting for other people's discoveries to be handed off to me," Daniel said.

"So don't," Janet advised. "Take all those brownie points you're earning and trade them for a position on SG-1."

"Colonel Makepeace, a squad of marines…and me?" Daniel said doubtfully.

Sam stiffened up, then a big, beautiful smile burst out of her. "Colonel Makepeace, a squad of marines, Meredith McKay and you!" she crowed.

"Sam!" Janet protested laughingly. "You can't do that to Daniel!"

"Oh, I can. I can and I will. Just watch me!"

"That's evil."

"I know. I love it."

"I don't," Daniel said. "He's a little…uh…"

"One man's arrogance is another man's passion," Catherine said rather pointedly to him, also seeing the evil beauty in it.

"McKay and Makepeace?" Daniel couldn't imagine it. Literally couldn't imagine it. His mind balked, shuddering away from the horror of it.

"I thought you were looking for a challenge?" Sam said.

"Not of that magnitude."

"Wuss."

"You don't want to go through the gate yourself?" Daniel asked, curious about such a fundamental difference in this Sam.

"Oh, Sam likes sitting idly here on base waiting for other people's discoveries to be brought to her," Janet said with as much wide-eyed innocence as she could muster.

"I'm not military," Sam said, as if that explained everything.

"Neither am I," Daniel said. "Nor is Catherine, excuse me, Dr. Langford."

"I'd prefer you call me Catherine."

"Thank you," Daniel said automatically, focused on Sam, with her hair loose around her shoulders, her smart navy suit and heels. "I notice you don't wear a uniform the way Catherine and I do."

"I have personal reasons," Sam said in a dampening tone.

"I'm sorry," Daniel said, belatedly realising he'd crossed a line with her. "I…you're my friend, I think I know you and I talk as if…"  He lifted helpless hands.

"Forget it. Taking McKay off my hands is apology enough."

"Jack will never allow it," Catherine said.

"He has a problem with scientists," Daniel said.

Sam grinned at them, slightly smug. "Not this one."

 

 

"You handed us a lot of new intelligence yesterday, Dr, Jackson," Jack said. "Thank you."

"Oh, I'm, I'm not done yet," Daniel said. "I have a lot of information and analysis to add on the Goa'uld, the Jaffa, the Asgard and the Nox, the alliance of the ancient races, the relevant mythologies from our history and how those are playing out in reality."

"Busy, busy," Jack said. "For the moment, let's focus on the People of Light."

"What's your threat assessment, Dr. Jackson?" Makepeace asked. "If you and Dr. Fraiser are to accompany SG-1 on this mission, I want to be fully prepared."

Huh. Daniel tended to think of it as SG-1 accompanying him.

"The Stargate is located in dense forest on the dark side of the planet," he explained. "The people infected by the virus, the Touched, inhabit the forest. The parasitic virus, the microbe Dr. Fraiser identified fed on alines and colines to suppress the normal functions of the brain, to overwrite mental and physiological states with an aggressive, unreasoning, primitive version of ourselves operating on pure instinct. The Touched were drawn to the activation of the Stargate, first attacking the probe and then the teams sent through the gate."

"What sort of strength?  Numbers, weapons?" Makepeace asked.

"They attacked in force, maybe a dozen or so, their weapons were clubs, rocks, their bare hands. Like I said, primitive. SG-3 fired weapons over their heads, driving them off. When Teal'c and I returned to the planet later, weapons fire evinced a similar response from them. They're afraid of it."

"We plan to use tranquiliser guns on the Touched," Janet said. "Loaded with a mild sedative and large doses of Chlorpheniramine."

"Yes, it's very important that we don't inflict casualties," Daniel said. "Remember that the Touched are the family and friends of the very people we're hoping to trade with. High Councillor Tuplo's daughter is one of the Touched, as is Councillor Leedora's father."

"Understood," Makepeace said.

"I hope so," Daniel said.

"We're placing a lot of trust in you, Doctor," Jack said. "Isn't it past time you started extending us the same courtesy?"

Daniel didn't respond to this.

"If Dr. Fraiser's treatment works, and I have no reason to believe it won't, what can we look to trade with these people?" Makepeace asked.

"The unusual axis of their planet means that their land literally is a land of light," Daniel said. "They have a year-long growing season, exceptionally rich soil, plentiful crops of cereals, vegetables, fruits. They weave silks, make ceramics. Not on an industrial scale, obviously, but we're not that large a population."

"You're still concerned about the impact we'll have on their civilisation, right?" Janet prompted.

"Right. It's not personal, not a reflection on you as individuals," Daniel said, glancing from Jack to Makepeace. "The SGC could afford to be beneficent because the People of Light had nothing we needed. Clearly, that's not the case here."

"Then I'll ask you directly," Jack said. "What is it you want here, Daniel?  If you were giving the orders, what would you do?"

"Treat them fairly. Trade with them in good faith. Help them, don't destroy them because their society is simpler than ours, their knowledge of science, medicine, less than ours. I don't even mean deliberately. Too much help or the wrong kind of help can be just as dangerous. The balance their society has is as fragile as the population on this base."

"What would be the right kind of help, in your opinion?" Makepeace asked.

"In my opinion?  I think we should aid them in their cultural development, not economic. Offer medical assistance and education. The People of Light have no concept of physical cause or treatment for illness. They believe it a curse bestowed by the Heelk'sha, evil gods or spirits. The simplest of treatments Dr. Fraiser could share would be a wonder to them."

"Doctor?" Jack asked.

Fraiser nodded briskly. "I have the personnel, the expertise to set up a programme covering basic hygiene, simple treatments for common injuries and illnesses, educate them to recognise more serious symptoms that would require medical intervention."

"I think that would do them a lot of good and generate us a lot of goodwill," Daniel said. "I'm not going out of my way to be difficult about this. Our own history of dealing with cultures deemed less developed by our standards is a 'how not to' manual. It's also my personal experience from the missions I've undertaken. I've not only seen people abused by those with greater understanding of technology, I've fallen victim to it myself. Bottom line, I think our long-term survival depends on their long-term survival. It's in our best interests to keep their societies from imploding."

"I happen to agree," Jack said.

"It is a reasonable strategy," Makepeace said.

"I've already stated my position on this," Janet said. "We are not sitting on a lot of renewable resources here."

"Forget easy, short-term gain. We're in it for the long haul," Jack said. "Speculate to accumulate, Colonel. Let that guide your tactical thinking."

"Yes, Sir," Makepeace said.

"I've had another idea," Daniel said. "Actually, while you were talking there. I understand access to the Abydos cartouche is doubtful at best. I, uh, I think I might have an alternative."

"Go on," Jack said.

"You never went to Chulak. The first time SG-1 did, the Stargate wasn't guarded. There was no need because the only travellers were Goa'uld and their Jaffa. No threat, because Chulak is the world where the Goa'uld gather to choose hosts for their young. All those Goa'uld, from so many different worlds, coming and going freely, can't we, can't we rig the DHD somehow to harvest gate addresses from them?"

Jack's eyebrows went up and Makepeace let out a huff of surprised pleasure.

"You're just full of surprises," Jack said, reluctant admiration shading his face. "And that's a good one. Low risk, high yield. I like it. I'll have Dr. Carter look into it."

"I thought Dr. McKay?" Daniel said, blandly ignoring Janet's impish amusement.

Jack shrugged. Whatever.

"We'll make a tactician of you yet, Dr. Jackson." Makepeace offered Daniel a slow, thoughtful nod, his version of approval.

"Oh, I hope not," Daniel said.

"General, I recommend we take SG-2 as backup to P3X-797," Makepeace said. "Dr. Jackson's report indicated dozens of Touched resident within the environs of the Stargate. I believe the more non-lethal force we can bring to bear, the fewer casualties there'll be on either side. We also have the safety of Doctors Jackson and Fraiser to consider."

Jack nodded permission.

"I have the authority to negotiate?" Daniel asked. "To begin trade, to offer terms for this alliance?" 

Jack's eyes narrowed in a long, assessing look Daniel had no difficulty meeting. "Just don't hand over the pink slip to the Stargate."

"Tuplo might want to visit here?"

"Quit while you're ahead," Jack advised dryly. "Dr. Fraiser?  Daniel's fit for active duty?"

"Normally, with that wound, I'd be inclined to confine him to light duties and to base," she said. "But as there's nothing normal about this, and I'll be along to monitor his condition, I'll allow it."

"It's just a burn," Daniel said.

"Infection is a concern."

"This is one fight you won't win, Dr. Jackson," Makepeace advised. "Dr. Fraiser is a much tougher nut to crack than the general or me."

"If there's nothing else?" Jack said. "SG-1 and SG-2 depart in one hour. Radio check every four hours."

"Duration of the mission?" Makepeace asked.

"Play that by ear. Let's see how successful Dr. Jackson is in winning the confidence of the People of Light."

"He's done pretty well here," Janet said.

"Dr. Fraiser?  You have your medical supplies ready?" Makepeace asked.

"Yes."

"Then you and Dr. Jackson should assume the appropriate camouflage BDUs and report to SG-1's ready room in the Stargate enclosure for final briefing and gear-up."

"Yes, Sir."

"With your permission, General?" Makepeace said to Jack, already on his feet.

"Dr. Jackson?  A word," Jack said, halting Daniel with a touch to the shoulder before he could follow Makepeace and Janet out of the briefing room.

"Jack?" Daniel prompted, impatient to be out and doing.

"I heard about your wife," Jack said unexpectedly. "Tough break. I'm…sorry."

"Is that what you meant to say last night?"

"That…and do what the hell I tell you, when I tell you to do it. If I say rest, I don't mean work yourself past the point of exhaustion."

"That's a, a fight you can't win, Jack. You'll crack before I do."

That spark of fugitive humour glinted, a moment, before the cool, distancing mask fell again. Challenge understood, accepted. Backatcha.

"One more thing," Jack said. "You can trust Colonel Makepeace."

"I can trust you, Jack."

Jack softened, warmed to this. Despite himself.

 


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Genesis  
> Author: Biblio  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Jack and Daniel   
> Category: Alternate Reality. Angst. Drama. Hurt/Comfort.   
> Date: April 2010.  
> Season/Spoilers: Season 1. An alternate reality springs from the events of "There But For The Grace Of God."  
> Synopsis: At the end of everything, Daniel Jackson provokes unexpected feelings from General Jack O'Neill and changes both their lives forever.

SG-1's ready room turned out to be the front half of a standard barracks that SG-2 were stationed at the back of. Makepeace had his desk by the entrance. Opposite stood a large table, with a display screen at its head and whiteboards on the walls behind it, for the team to plan and talk tactics. Next to this was a dartboard, a card table and low, casual seating. Two l-shaped rows of lockers split the space, opening into the gear-up area, the showers and toilet beyond.

The marines -- Daniel counted six in the squad -- were quiet, focused. Disciplined. He and Fraiser had one each, checking their gear, tugging and tightening straps on their vests, ensuring the night vision goggles were securely placed on their helmets.

"Just so we're clear," Makepeace said, looking over his attentive team with calm satisfaction. "Let me remind you the rules of engagement prohibit deadly force. Whatever the Touched look like, however aggressive they may be before they're tranquilised and Dr. Fraiser's medical treatment takes effect, we are engaging friendlies. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes, Sir!" the team barked.

Talk about your conditioned response.

"Then let's move out."  Makepeace jerked his thumbs towards the door behind him, then turned to lead the team out.

"He has a fine theatrical flourish," Daniel said.

"Part of the job description," Janet said, more patient with it than Daniel.

"I wish it was Jack."

"General O'Neill has confidence in Colonel Makepeace. The same confidence both he and the colonel are extending to you, I might add."

"I can't be petty if you're just going to be reasonable at me about everything."

Janet twinkled up at him. "I know."

"Doctors," Makepeace called, waiting just outside the ready room for them to catch up. "Major Kawalsky has assigned one of his men to protect you. You're to remain with him at all times. You will be issued sidearms with which to defend yourselves, but you're not to engage the Touched unless your guard is incapacitated. Now, SG-1 will go through the gate first, you and your guard will follow, while SG-2 cover our six. Are you clear on this?  Questions?"

"We know what to do," Janet said for both of them.

"Good. There's a lot riding on the success of this mission and I intend to bring you through it safely." Makepeace dismissed them with a brisk but not unfriendly jerk of the head, then turned to greet Kawalsky, coming up to join them with his team.

One of Kawalsky's men immediately positioned himself beside Daniel and Janet.

"This is Corporal Dillon," Kawalsky said. "He's watching out for you on this little cakewalk. Do what he tells you."

"You know that chain of command Sam was talking about yesterday?" Daniel said sourly. "I'm guessing we're at the bottom of it."

"Nope. I'm third from the top on this cakewalk," Janet said. "You're at the bottom on your own."

"Thank you so much for clarifying that for me."

"Don't mention it."

They followed SG-1 and SG-2 into the hangar, where SFs were waiting to arm them. Each man was handed a sidearm, MP5, tranquiliser gun and a number of rounds Janet had prepared for them.

"It's very important that you pick your targets and tranquilise each individual only once," Janet ordered. "These are mega-doses of the medication required to clear histamine from the systems of the Touched long enough for the primitive physiological and mental changes they've experienced to reverse. Exceeding that dose is extremely dangerous. And as Colonel Makepeace said, we want no fatalities on this one."

"Understood," Kawalsky said. "We ready to do this?"

"Dr. Jackson?" Makepeace said. "Would you care to dial P3X-797?"

"Oh. Okay. Sure."

Daniel didn't have the colonel's fine theatrical flourish, but he hoped he gave what was clearly considered to be a momentous occasion sufficient weight. If he didn't impress, the Stargate always did. There was awe and excitement on the faces of the men intently watching the event horizon pool and ripple.

Makepeace took the lead up the long, sloping concrete ramp, the members of SG-1 tense at his heels, MP5s slung, tranquiliser guns at the ready. "Wait a ten count," he ordered Dillon and Kawalsky. Then he stepped into the event horizon, his men following without hesitation.

"One small step for man," Kawalsky said irreverently, somewhere behind them.

Janet hunched her shoulders irritably, shrugging off his cynicism. She was thrilled, Daniel saw, openly, honestly thrilled by this adventure opening out ahead of her. He was glad for it, letting her emotion carry him into the Stargate.

Into the fight.

The Touched were all around them, pressing in from all sides, charging Makepeace and his men with mindless ferocity, heedless of the bodies falling around them. Dillon activated his night vision goggles, got Daniel and Janet straightened out, led them to the lee of the DHD, urged them down to cover behind it, then stood over them, aiming and firing his tranquiliser rounds with practiced precision. It was growling, screaming confusion, then SG-2 were there and the line steadied, stood firm under the onslaught.

Someone hollered for a medic and Janet surged up from behind the protection of the DHD, only to be forced down by Dillon's iron hand. "Wait for the all-clear, Ma'am," he instructed.

"Clear!"

Janet was up and running before the first call was joined by a second, a third, right across the line. Daniel took off after her, finding her preventing a swearing marine from joining a sweep to confirm hits and check the bodies of the Touched for pulses.

"Hold still!" she snapped.

"Just a bruise, Ma'am," the man argued. "I went down when that Touched clubbed me in the shoulder, thought my arm was broken for sure, but the feeling's coming back. I can still shoot alright."

This was perhaps not the best recommendation the man could've made about his condition to Dr. Janet Fraiser. She had him out of his vest, jacket and armaments in about the same amount of time Corporal Dillon had got them into their goggles. She poked and prodded, the man winced, moving his arm freely when prompted. In the green-tinged darkness, Janet couldn't read his face well enough to call him on his bravado. She reluctantly had to let him go, warning he'd better not make her look for him when they got out into the light. The marine didn't care, not when Colonel Makepeace was looking for him now.

"You have a lovely bedside manner," Daniel said. "And, yes. Asking about my arm at this point would be a cheap shot."

"Looking good so far," Kawalsky reported, materialising beside them momentarily. "Sleeping like babies. We're moving out now. We'll be following the road that leads from the gate to the Land of Light. Dillon?"

"Right here, Sir."

"Let's go."

Cushioned between SG-1 and SG-2, they had to ease their way through the dark in that achingly deliberate, strangely debilitating prowl that made Daniel want to fly apart. He failed to see how this pace, above any other, signified the optimal state of alertness and combat-readiness for a patrol. It certainly wasn't his optimal anything, even if it didn't hinder the marines. Or SG-2. He had to give them that. They were melting through the brush edging the rough dirt road, picking off the Touched straying into their crosshairs at will.

SG-1, the real SG-1, his SG-1, was more communicative. Maybe not as smooth and slick as all this, but no less effective for it. And Makepeace was smooth. He had a calm certainty, a confident professionalism at odds with the gung-ho, trigger-happy jarhead Daniel knew and loathed. Maybe the difference was simple. Maybe this Makepeace had nothing to prove. Not to himself, not to his men. Not even to Daniel.

It stuck in Daniel's throat, this realisation he wasn't being particularly fair to a man who had been unfailingly fair to him, even when the message wasn't palatable.

Of course, nobody said he had to be fair. Not when everything was the same but different, completely weird, completely wrong in every way. Not when the past two years of his life had been reduced to a wacky, wacky dream. As little as he wanted it, this was happening. All that was within his power was to make something good come from it.

"Wow," Janet said, seeing the Land of Light opening out just ahead of them in a storybook verdant meadow. "That's incredible. It's like somebody drew an arbitrary line and coloured one side of the planet black, one side green."

"Something to do with its axis of rotation and position relative to the sun in this solar system," Daniel said vaguely. "Sam explained it to me several times."

"You didn't catch it first time?" Kawalsky asked, emerging from the dark side.

"Yes. Unfortunately Jack didn't, and he kept winding her up and running away."

"Does the same here."

"Major!" Janet protested, frowning up at him.

"Call 'em like I see 'em, Doc," he said, unrepentant, moving off again as something caught his eye on the periphery.

Kawalsky's off-hand comment didn't bother Daniel so much as Janet's reaction. The man was needling, that was his style, but she was stung, and she showed it.

"They're engaged," he said uncertainly.

"Yes," she said, tight-lipped, her tone colourless. "They're engaged."

Daniel was no expert, not on women, not on relationships. He hadn't seen any hint, any spark between Jack and Sam, hadn't considered there was meant to be that spark until Catherine had told him. Hadn't looked for it. He was no judge, he knew that. It wasn't his place to judge. He should leave that to those who knew them, knew their relationship. Kawalsky, Janet, who judged something was wrong.

"Holy cow!" Makepeace said, coming to a dead stop where the meadow fell away into a steep drop to the valley below, his men spreading out in a line either side of him.

"And that's the Land of Light," Daniel said, delighted his jarheads had some poetry in them somewhere.

"Oh, my God!" Janet gasped. "It's beautiful."

"A Minoan city," Daniel said. "A living, thriving culture, intact and untouched by what we consider to be progress."

"No wonder you're so protective of them," Janet said.

It was smaller than the Genesis base, but immeasurably more beautiful with its artfully shaped low buildings of rich stone and decorative obelisks rising far above the roofline. Towering over it all was a huge, elegantly columned palace in vivid tones of red and black, the centre of this civilisation's civic and religious life.

"Dr. Jackson?" Makepeace said. "What's the reaction likely to be to our arrival?"

"Awe, childlike curiosity, reverence because we came through the Stargate, and in their experience, only the gods are capable of that. Word of our arrival will spread very fast, we may draw a large, excitable crowd before Tuplo and the councillors gather to greet us. Nothing these people will do in reaction to our arrival should be perceived as a threat. Even without what we're doing for the Touched, we'll be welcomed with open arms."

"Then we'll proceed on that basis. Slow and easy, gentlemen," Makepeace ordered. "Dr. Jackson?  You're with me."

 Janet grinned at Daniel, chalking up a point for him on an imaginary scoreboard. Daniel could have cheerfully lived without his elevation through the ranks.

"What can you tell me about Minoan culture?" Makepeace asked. "What will help me in these early negotiations?

"Minoan culture was sophisticated for its era, approximately 1700BC, growing up around palace centres, commercial states, on the island of Crete, much like the one we're about to visit," Daniel said, getting in as much as he could while the getting was good. It was likely a one-shot deal. "Minoan culture was singular in antiquity for its orientation on trade and bureaucracy, with little or no evidence of a military. They were indefatigable record keepers, but with an incredible visual culture, surrounding themselves with art, not only serving political and religious purposes, but, uniquely, art for pleasure." 

"Go on."

"I really am in another dimension," Daniel said, somewhere between gratified and intimidated. "Another unique characteristic of the Minoans is they avoided division of power and wealth along gender lines. Women were equally as involved and important as men in the public and economic life of their cities, serving as priestesses, functionaries, administrators, participating in every trade and occupation open to men. Leedora is a prime example of that, with a position of particular influence on the council led by Tuplo."

"In short, they're predisposed to trade."

"Isolated on this planet and enslaved by the Goa'uld for three and a half thousand years, they may not have had anyone to trade with outside their own civilisation, but I'm hoping they're open to it, yes."

"If they're interested in art for its own sake, maybe that's something we can offer in trade," Janet said, eavesdropping without shame. "Three and a half thousand years' worth of artistic development should buy us something."

"Why don't we ask them?" Daniel said, spotting a shocked young woman with a chicken under one arm and a baby balanced in the other, standing frozen in the doorway of a house at the edge of the city. The chicken fled squawking as she dropped to her knees, trembling so violently she barely managed to hold on to the baby. The baby objected immediately and with impressive lung capacity.

One of the marines darted out, snatched up the accelerating chicken and handed it back to her with a strange, hearty smile he'd likely been trained to produce on cue for intrusive war zone news cameras. Then he retired modestly to the ranks.

"We are honoured!" the woman gasped out, struggling to juggle both her squalling baby and the furiously clucking chicken of the gods. "The gods…the gods have…"

"We're not gods," Daniel said, hunkering down in front of her. "Please, get up. We don't mean you any harm. We're friends, travellers from another place. We'd like to trade with you, with your people."

"You wish us to treat you as mortals?"

"We are mortals."

Any self-respecting god would have fried the chicken by now.

"A gift," the woman said. "A gift for the gods." 

She handed Daniel the baby.

Before he could panic, she wrung the chicken's neck with a swift, economical twist that impressed the military, presented its limp corpse to him with formal dignity, then retrieved her child.

"Thank you," Daniel said with equal dignity. "We're grateful for your generosity."

She beamed, graciously allowing him to help her up before swaggering off to boast to the neighbours.  

There was some interest in what Daniel was going to do with the chicken.

"I've been handed worse," he said. "Now, unless you all want flocks of your own, I suggest someone find space in their pack for this. Before word spreads about the preferred gift for the gods. We've got a lot of ground to cover between here and the palace."

Janet summoned the marine with the bruised ego, on the grounds that securing the chicken allowed him to demonstrate a full range of movement, including wincing, cursing and gritting his teeth.

"Bearing in mind these people believe illness and injury are caused by Heelk'sha, evil gods or spirits, I would not recommend splinting this man's arm unless it's absolutely necessary," Daniel said. "Leave it until after the Touched start to revive, if you can. Give us a chance to introduce them to the concept of medicines and healing. It could even be a useful demonstration of what a doctor is, what you can do." 

"Agreed," Makepeace said. "We're losing momentum lingering like this, and in the interests of safety and diplomatic relations, I prefer to deal with a council of four than a crowd of hundreds."

He was doomed to disappointment. The street opened out into a small square with an obelisk at its centre and a high-spirited if shy crowd gathering from the streets around it. Despite Makepeace's concerns, the marines and SG-2 relaxed visibly when they got a good look at their first Minoans.  It seemed an excited man in a funny hat and a gorgeous blue or gold or purple or turquoise silk dress was a threat assessed someplace between zero and none.

"Look at those colours," Janet breathed in raptures of pure feminine lust.

Makepeace looked around him at the People of Light, then at Daniel, started to say something, stopped and shook his head in amused disbelief, relaxing into a wide, natural smile.

"I did tell you," Daniel said.

Thoroughly enjoying the show, the crowd parted good-naturedly to allow the councillors through to greet the gods on behalf of the city. Daniel moved out ahead of the marines, Makepeace at his shoulder, catching Tuplo a beat before the man could kneel. A murmur ran through the crowd at this.

"Please," Daniel said respectfully. "Don't kneel. Don't bow to us. We're mortal, men and women just like you."

"But…you came to the Land of Light through the ring of the gods, did you not?" Tuplo said, equally respectful but very confused. "How can you not be gods if you come from among the stars in which they dwell?"

Letting Daniel take the lead on this, Makepeace was watching and weighing Tuplo intently, hopefully seeing the same reasonable, soft-spoken man Daniel did.

"I'd like to try to answer your question," Daniel said. "Talk with you and these other leaders of your community. But I ask that we do it someplace less public than this. We don't want to confuse or frighten your people."

"Very well," Tuplo said. "I am High Councillor Tuplo. Welcome to the Land of Light, my lords. By what names should I call you?"

"I'm Daniel Jackson. This is Robert Makepeace, and my other companions are Janet Fraiser and Charlie Kawalsky."

Janet and Kawalsky came to stand beside Daniel and Makepeace, looking friendly and diplomatically approachable.

"My companions are councillors Leedora, Kitane and Pitaja," Tuplo said.

Kitane was the blonde woman, Pitaja the other man on the council. Neither had spoken in the short meetings SG-1 had with them in Daniel's reality, leaving it to Tuplo and Leedora.

"If you will follow, Lord Jackson," Tuplo invited with a graceful gesture.

"Call me Daniel."

"Lord…Daniel."

"Just Daniel."

"I kinda like the sound of Lord Kawalsky."

The reaction of the crowd seemed to be going to his head. People were falling to their knees in worship all around them, a rippling, human sea of colour and emotion.

"As you wish, lord," Tuplo said amenably.

Makepeace tossed an irritable glance Kawalsky's way. "None of us are lords, High Councillor. If you'll feel more comfortable using a title, then we each hold military rank. You can address us as Colonel Makepeace, Major Kawalsky and Captain Fraiser."

"Military rank," Tuplo said, unhappy and frightened the gods could read it in his face. Or in his soul. He was extremely anxious not to offend.

"We're peaceful explorers," Daniel said reassuringly. "We only carry weapons with which to defend ourselves, in the same way your guards do. We came here to trade with you, not to make war on you."

"You do not hold military rank?" Tuplo asked.

"No. I'm a scholar. I study history, culture, languages."

"And yet you lead here."

"Yes. Yes, I lead here," Daniel said, having no difficulty avoiding Makepeace's eye. "I have the authority to speak for my people just as you have authority to speak for yours as High Councillor."

It was challenging for the councillors to lead a ceremonial procession through their entire congregated population and make polite small talk with their gods at the same time, but they gave it their best shot. Leedora wanted to know what a colonel was.

"A colonel is a soldier and a leader of soldiers, a commander in battle," Daniel said. "A major is the same, only of a lesser rank. Like High Councillor and Councillor. A captain is of a lesser rank than major."

"You are not the equal of these men?" Leedora asked Janet.

"Holding a lesser rank does not mean I'm considered inferior," Janet said carefully. "It isn't a reflection of my sex. It only means that I haven't served in the military as long as Colonel Makepeace or Major Kawalsky and my duties and responsibilities are different to theirs. In time I will obtain the same rank as them."

"Or exceed them," Daniel said, unable to resist the temptation to indulge in a little needling of his own.

Janet rather liked the sound of that. So did Leedora and Kitane. Scenting a chance to put them more at their ease, Janet delicately touched the floating lilac and gold silk of Leedora's dress. "This is lovely," she said with open admiration. "The way the two colours are worked together, changing hue with the light. Your people weave these beautiful fabrics?"

"We have skilled weavers who make cloth for those households that do not have the time to spare to work a loom," Kitane said, blushing with pleasure.

"That's the case for my people," Janet said. "We're all engaged with other important tasks and don't have time to work looms. If you have enough weavers, we'd be interested in trading for your cloth."

"Then let us discuss it in the council chamber," Leedora said, eagerly drinking in their reactions to the palace. An impressively wide stairway led up to a massive bronze bull's head with curved horns, at least twice the height of a man. The bull stood guard over the entrance to the council chamber, while symmetrical colonnades of polished red columns topped in black bore the weight of the substantial architrave, contrasting gold geometric discs against a black background. Each colonnade framed a garden of trees and flowering plants opening out either side of the palace entrance.

"Cool," Kawalsky said. "Very, very cool."

"An incredible visual culture," Makepeace said.

"Nothing in the historical record does it justice," Daniel said, feeling strangely light, a warmth in his chest he could hardly quantify. Shock, he thought. This was working out the way he hoped, Makepeace and the others seeing and feeling what he wanted. 

If the exterior of the palace impressed them, the exquisite council chamber stunned them to silence, to stillness. Broad rectangular columns in a rich, earthy red, banded in black. The pale stone floor inlaid with contrasting geometric mosaics of curves and diamonds in muted shades of lilac, purple, gold and more of that earthy red. A low, solid wooden table trimmed with bold blocks of colour stood in the centre of the mosaic, with four delicate wrought iron chairs cushioned red either side of it. All these bold differing colours and patterns should have clashed, but they complemented in a harmonious whole. On a dais at the far end of the room, the horns from two opposing bulls' heads touched to form the isolation circle used to identify the Touched.

"All our progress, our ingenuity, resources, technology, machinery. We come up with concrete," Janet said, struck by the incredible irony of it all. "We mass produce the ordinary instead of striving for the extraordinary."

"That's why this has to be protected," Daniel said. "One of the reasons why."

"Catherine has to see this," Janet said. "See where her Stargate has taken us."

"I plan to bring her through the gate myself," Daniel said. He loped down the stairs and across to the council table where Tuplo and the others stood patiently waiting. He went to the seat opposite Tuplo, with Makepeace next to him, then Janet, Kawalsky at the end. When he sat, the others followed suit. Only then did the councillors take their seats.

"You say you are not gods," Tuplo reminded them. "That you are mortals, men and women of flesh and blood like us. Explain how this can be so."

"We know the beings you think of as gods," Daniel said. "We've encountered them out among the stars. We have learned that although they have great power, they are not gods. They are also mortal, also beings of flesh and blood. They look like us, but inside they're different. There's a creature inside them, a creature that controls them." 

"What you are saying cannot be true," Leedora said pityingly.

"Do you have children, Leedora?" Janet asked. "Kitane?"

Both women nodded.

"Then you know it's possible for one life to exist within another."

"The bearing of a child is a very different thing than that you speak of," Leedora said. "A natural thing."

"Do you keep pigs?" Janet asked. "Do the people who eat the meat of those pigs sometimes become ill?   They feel a terrible hunger, eat a great deal more than others, yet remain thin and weak?"

"Some of the Untouched have been cursed in this manner by the Heelk'sha," Tuplo said, impressed by Janet's omniscience.  Kawalsky, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to barf big time.

"This particular curse is actually a worm, a parasite that lives in the flesh of a pig," Janet said. "If the meat isn't completely cooked before it's eaten, the worm can survive and live inside our body."

This was a little too much of a stretch for them.  For the marines too, who were also starting to look green around the gills. 

"Have you ever looked at meat that's been spoiled?" Daniel suggested. "It becomes infested with tiny worms that in time spawn flies?"

Tuplo assented with a nod.

"You wouldn't eat the meat because you can see that it's spoiled. But those worms take time to grow inside the meat. You may not be able to see them, but they are there. Beneath the surface."

"I take your meaning, Lord Daniel," Tuplo said. "You wish us to believe that a god may look like a man or a woman, but beneath the surface they are spoiled by that which cannot be seen."

"This is very difficult," Leedora said.

"When was the last time the gods visited you?"

"If you are not them, they have not been among us for at least a generation."

"Then let me ask you this," Daniel said. "You honour the gods. You kneel before them, offer your obedience and your worship. Do you do this out of love, as thanks for all the good they've done and the kindness they've shown your people, or out of fear?  If you were to look at the records your ancestors kept of these visits by the gods, would they show the theft of your food stores, terrible punishments inflicted even on the innocent, murders, people taken through the ring of the gods and never seen again?"

 "The records show this and more," Tuplo admitted.

"We can help you," Daniel said. "We want to help you. We learned of the Touched and travelled here to heal them. We've cured them of the sickness they suffer so they can live among you again."

"The Touched were cursed by the Heelk'sha," Tuplo said, growing agitated. "They cannot be helped."

"They have been helped, Tuplo," Janet said. "I promise you. They are themselves again. In a short while they will start to return to the city."

"How is this possible?" Tuplo demanded.

Janet took a deep breath. "Okay, think about all the different types of living things around us. People, pigs, sheep, chickens, cattle, horses, fish, birds, bulls, snakes, insects. All different shapes and sizes and colours, all living. It's the same with the things that can exist beneath the surface of a human body. Some are wonderful and natural, like a baby. Others are sicknesses that can harm the body. You only know of their presence from their actions on the body: a fever, a pain, a rash. Or like the changes you saw in the people who became Touched, the changes that made them wild and dangerous. I have medicines that can cure a sickness or heal the body."

"My daughter Melosha is among the Touched," Tuplo said with painful longing.

"My father," Leedora added, tears in her eyes.

"I'm not asking you to trust us," Daniel said gently. "To take what we say on faith. I'm only asking you to wait a little while longer. Let us prove ourselves to you."

There was probably a reality in which the Touched emerged from the dark on cue, but it wasn't this one. An awful silence fell, the four councillors fixing strained gazes on the entrance to the council chamber, starting at every sound. Leedora couldn't bear it, jerking to her feet, taking a hasty step or two before a scream rooted her to the spot. A second scream sounded, then another, and another, and then a great roar of joy and love and pain.

Leedora went absolutely white. "Father!" she gasped, breaking into a dead run.

Tuplo looked over at Daniel, speechless, helpless, his heart in his eyes, then he bolted after Leedora.

"Oh, this I have to see!" Janet said, jumping up.

Every one of them followed, every one of them had to see, cynic, pragmatist, realist, fatalist, idealist, romantic. It was beautiful. Crying and laughing, screaming and cheering, hugging and dancing. Reunion. Beyond hope, beyond understanding, beyond belief.

Tuplo tumbled weeping out of the throng, his daughter in his arms, dropping reverently to his knees before Daniel. "You have saved us, my lord. You have lifted the curse. Thank you!  We thank you!  Ask anything of us that you will."

 

 

Daniel knocked on Jack's door before he questioned the impulse. Jack answered as it occurred to him this was likely a mistake.

"I shouldn't be here," he said, frowning at Jack.

"Nope. You should be on P3X-whatever-it-was, milking the Minoans 'til they moo. But don't let that stop you stop me doing reports."

"Uh, sorry. I just realised I have no good reason to be here and you have no good reason to want me here."

Jack considered this, reached out a casual hand, hooked Daniel around the elbow and hauled him into his quarters.

"You're confusing me," Daniel said. And this was before he found himself sitting stiffly on the extreme edge of Jack O'Neill's bed, uncertain how he got there.

"You do a good job of confusing yourself," Jack said, sinking into the deep, loving embrace of a serious reading chair; winged, studded, cushioned, satiny bourbon leather polished by age and use. An antique mahogany table glowed beside the chair while an elegantly matched reading lamp arched overhead. Ruling the world had its perks. Daniel had last seen this chair under a Presidential ass on the SGC's White House Christmas card.

He had to get up off the bed and sit at the desk, even though he kind of knew Jack expected this, Jack had set him up to do exactly this when he failed to offer the free chair. A point had been scored, or a point had been made, too obscure for Daniel to care much.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said, feeling somehow exposed. Ridiculous. "I guess about the mission."

"Debriefing on first contact is at 09:00 tomorrow."

"I don't report to you, Jack," Daniel said, doggedly honest. "I talk to you."

It was the conversational equivalent of a loaded gun. He could only wait for what Jack would do with it. This was not the man he'd saved on Abydos, not the man who had made a choice for life, become his friend. This man was hostile, sarcastic, tired, bored and dishevelled, a man in socked feet and loosened t-shirt, with a whiskey on the table beside him. A man who…wanted him here.

Daniel smiled at Jack, light and loose, hopeful, more sure of them both.

"So talk," Jack said, sardonic and surrendering.

"Colonel Makepeace surprised me," Daniel said. "He's not you, but I can work with him. He listens, which is sometimes more than I get from you."

"When have I not listened to you?" Jack said. "Me, not the other guy."

"That's…true," Daniel said, intrigued. "You've done everything I've asked you to. The other you does that too, of course, but usually there's more argument."

"This your long-winded way of asking me to assign SG-1 to you permanently?"

"Yes, yes, I think so."  In fact, he'd come to the reluctant conclusion that if he wanted to keep on exploring through the gate, it was probably in his interests to lobby for a place on an SG team. He had not imagined SG-1 would be handed to him on a plate.

"You look like a kid at Christmas," Jack said. "SG-1 will have other missions, ones you won't be part of. But when you need to get out there, take a look around, Makepeace will back you up."

"He's okay with that?"

"I'm okay with that," Jack said, superb in his arrogance.

"No one's ever given me marines before," Daniel said, absurdly pleased. "I'm not entirely sure what I'll do with them."

"I'm sure it'll keep Makepeace up nights, trying to figure it out."

"Is this your long-winded way of saying you agree with my decision to give Tuplo some breathing space, a chance to actually think through his position on trade?"

Jack shrugged, careless. "He already handed you the keys to the planet. The rest is just detail."

"You trust me," Daniel said, slow comprehension dawning. "I don't know that you want to, but you trust me anyway."

"Jesus, Daniel. You think you can say _anything_ to me and I'll just take it?"

"I know I can," Daniel said with quiet certainty. "You need me to push you, to keep you honest. We're friends, Jack. You know it too, or you wouldn't have let me in here."

That intense, arrested look darkened Jack's eyes. "You think you know me?  What this is?"  He flowed from the chair like silk, hands strong on Daniel's face, pulling him to his feet, to Jack. Jack's burning mouth. Jack's…kiss.

Jack.

Kissing him.

Hot, hard, hungry, punishing, plundering. Bruising lips, agile thrusting tongue, deep wet suction. Daniel couldn't think, move, breathe. Jack dragged Daniel's hand down between them, between Jack's legs to a steely erection. Jack's hand between Daniel's legs, squeezing, kneading, knowing. Daniel hardening against Jack's hand, legs shaking, whimpering into his mouth. It might have been the sexiest sound Jack had ever heard.

Jack was moving, pushing, taking them down onto the bed, tossing Daniel's glasses, pinning his body, taking his mouth.

Daniel's hands were free. Had been free from the start. Free to push away or pull closer. To choose. His hands lay in limbo against the pillows, disconnected, strings cut. Now one of Jack's hands found his, Jack's fingers clenched between his. Jack holding him. Holding his hand, his mouth. Jack's other hand between them, working buttons and cloth, baring skin.

Jack, granite and angry edges, holding on to his hand, sliding down to bury his face in Daniel's belly, mouth trailing sultry and greedy and low.

Daniel could move his hand. He could make that choice. Only Jack's lips, tongue, fingers trailed fire. Jack's weight was on him, Jack's skin soaking into his. Nothing came to his mind. There was only feeling, sensation, the sureness of touch. Jolting, liquid, slamming his chest, closing his throat, melting him hip and thigh. He opened, he wanted, he spread for Jack, his hand going to Jack's hair.

No thought, no expectation. No imagining this. Not Jack between his legs, alive for him. Hungry, heated hardness centring, erections grinding, Jack moaning and pleasured. Supple hips, arching back, the strength and the breadth and the power of Jack on him. Jack starved, straining, rocking against him hard and fast, hard and slow, on and on.

Only Jack's hands found Daniel's again, gentling. His mouth was tender, asking, Daniel moving with him. Fingers, tongues entwined, luscious, electric, drugging. Daniel drowning, burning, breath sobbing in his chest, the heat and the feeling bursting. Jack on him, riding him, reading him; pleasuring, pounding, pushing him to orgasm.

Jack came with a low purr of satisfaction, gloating over Daniel's murmuring shock at the hot pulse of semen over his belly, ravishing kisses, hips idling, drunk with sensation.

Jack's eyes soft and smug; edges, angles, anger ground from his sated body; coldness blunted to cocksure, possessive warmth.

It was hardly more shocking than the sex that Jack didn't kick him out after. He cleaned them up some, flicked off the light, pulled the blankets over them, settled to sleep with Daniel on his skin.

Daniel couldn't think or move or speak, could scarcely even breathe, but now he could read the complicated expression on Jack's face. He was exactly where, exactly how Jack wanted him to be.

In Jack's bed, in his arms, silenced, more than his skin bared, sweet and still from sex.


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Genesis  
> Author: Biblio  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Jack and Daniel   
> Category: Alternate Reality. Angst. Drama. Hurt/Comfort.   
> Date: April 2010.  
> Season/Spoilers: Season 1. An alternate reality springs from the events of "There But For The Grace Of God."  
> Synopsis: At the end of everything, Daniel Jackson provokes unexpected feelings from General Jack O'Neill and changes both their lives forever.

It was extremely early when Daniel woke, a little after five am, feeling completely unreal. Jack was already awake, already erect, hardly waiting for Daniel's eyes to open before the eager hand sweeping coaxing circles low over his belly closed around his penis. Daniel was aroused by just this, the strength and the size, the rough masculine certainty of Jack's hand on him.

 "I want you," Jack said straightforwardly, stroking a light finger down between the cheeks of Daniel's ass. Shivering at the intimacy, Daniel caught at Jack's wrist. Jack neatly evaded, turning Daniel's wrist to cradle his penis in both their hands. "No point denying you want me too, not after I cleaned your clock already," Jack said. "Could have stopped me any time, but you didn't."

"No, I didn't. I have no idea why I didn't."

"Because I'm honest with you, Daniel, honest about wanting to fuck you. I'm not tied up in knots over you. I'm not your team leader, it's not my job to protect you in the field. I don't have to be responsible for you. You shoulder that pretty well yourself. I don't need to be your big brother or your hero. I don't have to respect your clueless virginity, cute as it is. I don't see you married. Not in my reality."

"Maybe you're right," Daniel said with difficulty, because truth was hitting hard. "About all of it. Maybe, if I have to live out my life in this reality, I can't see myself as married. Can't afford to. I don't know about that. I do know you have a fiancée. In this reality. Naiveté is a poor excuse for sleeping with you once. I won't do it again."

He got away from Jack, got out of the bed, got his aching, uncooperative body into pants he didn't try to button, Jack's eyes boring into him the whole time.

"You must be a lousy poker player," Jack said while Daniel was pulling his t-shirt over his head.  "You show your hand way too easy.  You just admitted your sole objection to sleeping with me is my engagement."

"Not my only objection." Daniel gathered up the remainder of his clothing, heading for the door. "I want my friend."

"Right here.  I'm just not the friend you thought you had."

Daniel didn't look back.  He went out into the hallway, closed Jack's door, counted four steps from Jack's quarters to his, swiped entry, and scarcely resisted the urge to slide down the back of his door and huddle on the floor. 

Semen had dried on his belly, his and Jack's combined, the scent of it strong enough to reach even his nose. It drove him into the shower, the sting of cold water, the cleansing relief of hot. He huddled there, trying to clear his mind, trying to comprehend what had happened to him, what he had done. He could hardly frame the what; the why was utterly beyond him.

 He thought, or rather he felt…this was not Jack O'Neill.  This was not the man, not the friend he knew.  There was an essence, a core to Jack's character, common to both, but experience, choices had shaped them very differently. Sam was not the same, Makepeace, Catherine. He saw that clearly. Why was it so difficult for him to read the changes in Jack, to reconcile himself to difference in this one friend?

He had counted on honesty to reach this Jack O'Neill. Hammered the point home to him in front of God and everyone, again and again. That he was honest with Jack and Jack must be honest with him. He trusted Jack and Jack could trust him. 

Jack had only taken him at his word. Expressed an honest, frank desire, seducing Daniel because he wanted to, because he could. Told him the truth about Jack O'Neill as he saw it. Not only his own truth, but what he understood about the man Daniel believed he knew. And Jack had it down cold. All the reasons this Jack O'Neill could fuck him were all the reasons Daniel's friend Jack hadn't.

He slept with this Jack because his gut, his body grasped instinctively what his mind wouldn't. This man was not the same. Daniel could never have done this with the man he knew. Never. It would have been wrong for him, for them, on every level.

He had a sinking feeling Jack was right about one other thing. Jack had nailed him in a blitz attack, but if Daniel had never had the protection of ignorance, he definitely no longer had the excuse. Fiancée or not, Jack would nail him again, when and if and how he could. Daniel couldn't fathom the man's morality, intentions or feeling on that one, but he possessed sufficient self-awareness to acknowledge it was only the fact of the engagement keeping him out of the man's bed. 

He couldn't fool himself it was because he wasn't ready to give up on his reality or accept his life lay in this one. It was entirely true, but it hadn't crossed his mind until now.

Daniel had never been so confused, so wrung out and unnerved in his entire life. 

 

 

Jack had his own spin on how to wind down and liven up an uneventful debriefing, killing both birds with one announcement. "I've decided to visit P3X-797 to meet with Tuplo and the council face to face."

"General?" Major Davis said, inflecting protest at this appalling idea as a question.

"You have an issue with the way negotiations are being conducted by Dr. Jackson and myself, Sir?" Colonel Makepeace asked.

"No issue.  And, according to your mission reports, no actual negotiations."

"It would have been, I can only call it obscene, to dictate trade terms when Tuplo was so emotional over the reunion with his daughter," Daniel said.

"I'm not second-guessing that decision, Dr. Jackson," Jack said.

"No?  Then what are you doing?"

"Dr. Jackson," Makepeace said. "You should respect the general's rank even if you disagree with his decision." Which neatly underscored his opinion on the matter.

"I'm extending a diplomatic courtesy," Jack said.

"I…" Daniel was momentarily silenced by Jack's gall. "I have no idea how to phrase this with the respect due your rank, so I'll just say it. You're not a diplomat, Jack. Not in this, not in any reality. You're an antagonist."

"That's your take on diplomacy, is it?"

It actually took this long for Daniel to work out Jack's baiting was picking up where the refusal to have sex with him left off. Battle lines had been drawn, the desired objective determined, Jack was engaged and skirmishing.

"General?  If I may?" Davis said. "Further to Dr. Jackson's suggestion for harvesting gate addresses from the DHD on Chulak, I'd like to propose Dr. Carter and Dr. McKay try a dry run on a friendly gate."

If Sam was the last person Daniel wanted to run into right about now, he thought guiltily she was also the only one with a hope of keeping Jack in line and away from him.

"No objection," Jack said.

"You haven't met Dr. McKay," Daniel said.

"General, there's a strong possibility the Stargate will be disabled temporarily while it's being worked on," Davis said.

"And there's zero possibility Tuplo will snap us in the ass if we're cut off for a few hours."

"If there's a problem here on base?" Davis tried again.  Jack's patience, mostly.

"Like a huge administrative crisis I would delegate to you to resolve regardless?"

Davis was annoyed and effectively silenced.

"The Goa'uld," Makepeace started to say, then bit it off. No point. If the Goa'uld found this base, there was nothing anyone could do. No refuge, no defence.

Which was exactly what Jack had in mind for Daniel.

 

 

"You don't want to see an architecturally stunning, historically significant ancient Minoan palace?" Sam said.

"What I want to see is the Stargate, specifically, the DHD. Or even my hand in front of my face," McKay said. "You people weren't kidding when you said this was the Land of Dark."

"Two of my men will stay here to help you rig the lighting you requested, Doctor," Makepeace said.

"That's ridiculous," McKay said. "Has it occurred to anyone that if we're using this gate on a regular basis to import grain and whatnot, we should move it closer to the city? Someplace we can see where we're going and what we're getting?"

There was a pained silence. Daniel, Jack, Sam, Janet, Makepeace and the marines.  Everyone thought this was a great idea, no one was going to admit it. Not when they should've thought of it first and it was Motormouth McKay who'd beaten them to the punch.

"How do you propose we move it?" Sam said.

"There are -- what? A couple thousand Minoans sitting around with nothing better to do than weave dresses?"

"What about the security of the Stargate?" Makepeace asked.

"Its prime location here in the Land of Dark never stopped the Goa'uld dropping by before when they felt like it, but I imagine an iris would cover it." McKay waited.

No one laughed.

"Pun intended," McKay said.

No one laughed.

"Another graduate of your particular school of tact and diplomacy?" Jack breathed right into Daniel's ear, making him start so violently he dislodged his night vision goggles. This gave Jack the opportunity to pin him in place and put them back for him because they couldn't replace them if he stepped on the damn things. The hands on his face were light, even patient, and made his heart swoop sickeningly when he thought of the passion he'd felt under them.

Daniel was in an impossible position, a ludicrous one, with Jack literally breathing down his neck in mute reminder of his sole homosexual experience and Sam just a few yards away, a chatty reminder of Jack's heterosexual commitment. A ludicrous problem with a simple solution. Jack just had to take no for an answer from the geek and move on with his brilliant, beautiful, articulate, adoring fiancée.

Seriously.

Daniel Jackson and Samantha Carter? No comparison. No competition. If it was him or Sam, then Daniel was backing Sam all the way. Not that he was competing. Or anything. Not that Jack had given any indication there was a choice to make. Wanting to go on sleeping with Daniel, being direct about what he wanted, didn't equate to breaking off his engagement, not in Jack's book.

They were not in the same book.

Maybe…maybe he should stop obsessing about his astounding, aborted gay sex life and start thinking about the mission!

"I suppose I'd better come along, decide where I want the Stargate," McKay said.

"That's a military decision," Jack said.

"That's Tuplo's decision," Daniel said.

"I'm confident Tuplo will follow any advice we offer," Makepeace said, moving off to direct the two men nominated to rig the powerful lighting McKay and Sam would need to work on the DHD.

Yes. Overwhelmed and obligated as the man was, Tuplo would do whatever his heroes asked of him. That was why Daniel had insisted on giving the council this brief respite, the chance to get through the first shock of reaction before having to make rational choices to secure reasonable, sustainable trade terms with the people who'd reunited their families.

When the group moved off, Daniel took the opportunity to join Janet, grateful for her uncomplicated warmth and her efforts to include him.

"What's in the case?" he asked.

"Show and tell," she said, smug fingers hooked around the shoulder strap of the metal case she was carrying. "Relax, Daniel. A microscope, not a tapeworm."

"Tapeworm?" Sam repeated with a shudder. "What possessed you to…"

"I had to come up with something off the cuff," Janet said. "An example, a common experience the Untouched could comprehend."

"The logic is sound. But…tapeworms?"

"Daniel was the one who brought up maggots," Janet said, grinning.

"Only following your lead," Daniel said.

Sam seemed intent on following Daniel's lead, sticking with him and Janet instead of walking at Jack's side. The proximity was desperately uncomfortable.

"I just wanted to say," Sam began. "Look, Dr. Jackson. Daniel. I'm sorry I left the controller behind. I didn't intentionally strand you."

"I know that."

"Good. We haven't given up on the quantum mirror. I'm theorising it stores data on the realities it's translated into in some kind of memory buffer for retrieval and analysis."

"Theorising? Try guessing wildly," McKay interjected, eavesdropping behind them.

Sam gritted her teeth. "If we can reactivate the mirror…"

"Hasn't taken anything we've thrown at it so far. Including Lee's kitchen sink."

"Access the memory buffer…"

"Ah, if wishes were horses," McKay said with mock joviality.

"You'd be trampled underfoot!" Sam snapped. "Daniel had a _wife_. Friends. A life."

"Have a wife," Daniel said. "Have. Sha'uri's not dead. She may be lost to me, but she's…She's host to a Goa'uld. Host to Apophis's queen."

"I'm sorry," Sam said.

"You should be," McKay said. "False hope is worse than no hope at all. Makes you feel better, not Jackson."

"You're in no position to judge," Sam said. "What have you lost that compares? You saved your sister. Her husband. My brother is dead, my niece and nephew, my Dad. I lost my family. I understand what it means to Daniel to lose his."

"Then prove it," McKay retorted, giving no quarter. "Tell him the truth about the quantum mirror. Tell him the technology is beyond us. We could tinker with it a lifetime, ten lifetimes, and he'll still end his days right here."

"That's your expert opinion?" Daniel asked.

"Hers too, if she was less guilty and more honest."

"Guilty?" Sam said.

"You did strand him here, blondie."

"I'm concerned that things work out for my reality, not myself," Daniel said. "If my message got through, if my reality is safe, this is a small price to pay. I can live with it."

"Can you live without your wife?" Too late to bite off the words, Sam winced apologetically. "Sorry, that was out before I…sorry."

"I love my wife," Daniel said softly. "Very much. Nothing will ever change that. Sha'uri is courageous, determined, honest, practical, funny, committed to her people. She defied her god and inspired a revolution."

"Sounds like she inspired you," Janet said, putting a comforting hand on his arm as they walked.

"I'm sorry we won't get you back to her," McKay said in a subdued tone.

"Jack will try to find Sha'uri," Daniel said. "He'll do it. If it's humanly possible, he'll save her."

"You have a lot of faith in him," Sam said, looking ahead to her Jack.

"I know him."

"You know me too," she said. "What am I like? In your reality." It was a conscious effort to lighten the mood.

"Your hair is shorter," Daniel said.

Janet lightly punched him on Sam's behalf.

"Are we friends there?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Yes, I believe we are. You look out for me, understand my obsessions like I do yours, make me take care of myself. We spark ideas in each other, argue about a lot of things, agree about a lot more."

"So, I have a heart under that military veneer," Sam said.

"I've never thought of it as a veneer," Daniel said, uncomfortably thinking the Sam he knew was warmer and somehow lighter-hearted. And he should be more generous, less judgemental. This Sam's world had been destroyed, torn down around her.

"Me in the military. I can't imagine."

"It fits you, your character," Daniel said unthinkingly. "You like to quantify, classify. It fits your sense of order. Purpose. Security. Belonging, I guess."

Despite the squirrelly green-tinged night vision, Daniel caught Sam staring at him, stung and searching for a response.

"Sorry," Daniel said automatically. "I wasn't looking to offend you."

Which offended her more, that he read her well enough to know she had a problem with his perception of her.

"I don't see those as negative qualities. Not in you," Daniel offered, trying to make amends. "You get through life more easily than I do."

" _I_ get through life more easily than you do," McKay said.

"Only because you're an insensitive jerk completely lacking in tact, empathy or one iota of self-awareness," Sam said, rallying.

"Oh, and Mr. Sensitive here clearly has those qualities in spades."

"Doctor? A word," Jack called over his shoulder.

With a last baleful look at McKay, Sam started forward.

"Dr. Jackson," Jack amended.

Sam pulled up short, surprise and faint annoyance clear on her face in the half-light here at the outer edge of the forest. Daniel slunk past her, cursing Jack bitterly under his breath, praying embarrassment wasn't so easy to read on his face. 

"Relax," Jack advised, his tone perfectly pitched not to carry, perfectly modulated to acerbic amusement. "I don't plan to nail you in front of God and SG-1. I want your take on this notion of moving the Stargate. McKay is right about it, but you think Tuplo will buy it? It's sacred to them, right?"

Jack had surprised him. Again. Jack knew he'd surprised him. Again.

"You're right," Daniel said. "The Stargate is sacred to them. Every civilisation we've encountered through the gate has been taught to fear it and revere it. Even the Jaffa, closer to their Goa'uld masters than to the human slave populations, have been indoctrinated to believe it the magic of the gods. Tuplo and the Untouched fear the gods, but that doesn't materially affect their belief in them. I hope we gave the council enough food for thought they'll edge towards cautious agnosticism. Atheism isn't even on the table. In short…"

Jack snorted.

"In short," Daniel said again, coldly. "Tuplo could head up the line to move the gate himself, he could reject the proposal out of piety or fear of reprisal, he could want the gate destroyed to eradicate the risk it represents to his people."

"I like what's behind door number one."

"Ultimately it's not our decision to make for them. You know that. Right?"

"Not your decision to make for me either," Jack said.

Daniel slapped himself upside the head. "I keep forgetting I'm serving a military dictatorship now, not a democracy."

"We're in a state of emergency. End of the world, last play in the book. If extinction doesn't count as exigent circumstance in your book, nothing will."

"Today, yes, absolutely. Maintaining some semblance of order, of normality, is essential for the population to survive, rebuild. But what about a month from now, a year from now, a decade from now?"

"I don't know, Daniel. I don't have a fucking clue. But maybe Tuplo, maybe these people, maybe they do. Why the hell do you think I came out here? Art appreciation?"

Truth. Raw as it came. Nothing but the truth.

"I don't give you enough credit," Daniel said. "I'm sorry for that."

"Not for getting on my case."

"No," Daniel said with due consideration. "I'll never apologise for kicking your ass when I think you need it."

"Try kissing it," Jack said, his tone bullish and sarcastic but his eyes, his eyes…God. Unseen by anyone but Daniel. Sinful. Filthy. Promising, not threatening. "Get you further."

Daniel was saved from having to come up with a response to that, any response, by their first sight of the city below. He turned quickly to catch Sam and McKay's reactions, only to catch Sam's reaction to his conversation with Jack instead, her earlier friendliness replaced by a cool, faintly questioning detachment. Her position could not have been telegraphed more clearly. She didn't care to have her place at Jack's side usurped. Not as his advisor. Not in any respect.

If Daniel was incapable of keeping his mouth shut or refraining from kicking Jack's eminently deserving ass, a solution to his real difficulty with the man suggested itself. All he had to do was ask Sam to swap quarters. That would put her happily in Jack's way and keep Daniel out of it.

"It is beautiful," Sam acknowledged, coming up to join Jack.

Daniel stepped aside, allowing her to come between him and Jack literally as well as figuratively.

"Are you kidding?" McKay said. "Aesthetically, sure, it passes muster. But there's no electricity, no running water, no plumbing, no sewer system."

"No romance in your soul," Janet judged.

"I have romance. I'm plenty romantic."

"Sorry if I misread you," Janet said. "Sorry if I somehow missed out on the romance in the midst of all that bitching and moaning."

"You're no picnic yourself, red," McKay said.

"McKay," Jack said warningly.

"In fact," McKay said.

"McKAY!" Jack roared, brows drawn tight, ugly. "Open your mouth again, except in response to a direct question, I'll have Makepeace here close it."

"With pleasure," Makepeace said.

For a second or so, no one said or did anything. McKay was choking on a raft of outraged complaints. Janet and Sam were too annoyed with McKay to defend him. Janet's military rank precluded protest on something like this anyway, but Sam was a civilian, nominally McKay's boss, and she must know she had the greatest influence over Jack. Even if she agreed with Jack's sentiments, what of his tone, his choice of words?

"Dr. McKay," Daniel said. "Rodney. While I don't agree with the manner in which Jack expressed himself, it doesn't change the fact he has the right as your commanding officer to invite or decline your contribution to any discussion. As little as I like it, we all speak with his permission. We need to keep that in mind."

Daniel above all. He must not forget Jack was indulging him, playing him, leading him into temptation. Submission.

"Dr. Jackson. You're with me," Jack ordered curtly. He turned on his heel, striding briskly down the steep trail leading to the valley floor and the city, Daniel scrambling to catch up with him, the point man practically running ahead of him to keep the required lead. "You have a sense of irony, I'll give you that," Jack said, slowing down fractionally so Daniel could pace him.

It was an apology. Of sorts.

"You have the weight of the world on your shoulders right now. I'll give you that," Daniel said.

"And Motormouth back there needed to be slapped down."

"Maybe so. But not that way, and not necessarily by you."

"Planning to take some of that advice you're dishing out?"

"I hope you do."

"Keep the proper, disciplined distance? Leave you alone?" Jack smiled with wolfish relish. "Not a chance."

"You already made your choice, Jack," Daniel said, casting a swift, significant glance back at Sam. "You're the one who has to live with it. Not me."

Jack didn't get the chance to pursue this. Tuplo had posted a guard at the outskirts of the city. He saw the group approaching, hailed the conquering heroes, then took off in a sprint for the palace.

People poured out of their houses, so many, so quickly, they must have waited for Daniel and the others to arrive. A cheer went up from those closest to SG-1, a cheer lifted and carried clear throughout the city, an immense physical force of emotion, gratitude, respect.

They were welcome.

Streamers and pennants of bright cloth fluttered overhead, flowers were strewn on the ground ahead of them, eager fleeting hands touched each of them in adoration as they passed. People turned to follow in their footsteps, hard on their heels, a barricade of good will and celebration.

The clamour, the charged energy coursing through this crush of humanity stunned Daniel. He stumbled, thankful for the quick hand that steadied him, tucked himself safe in his accustomed place at Jack's shoulder. When he looked around, Makepeace and his men were sheltering Sam, Janet and McKay in much the same way.

The noise to him was a live thing. Deafening, battering at his senses, the feel of it in his aching bones and a deep, unnerving thrum in his chest that had his heart skipping.

He was shaking, beyond speech, when the crowed carried them onto the steps of the palace and fell back. The stairs pitched and rolled in front of him and he heard McKay blathering in the far distance about acoustics, the literal wall of sound.

"They need a gesture," Daniel said to everyone. To Jack. He climbed steps, not easy with spaghetti legs. Once he was high enough, once he could be seen, he turned and raised his hand in a salute to the People of Light. The others were quick to follow his lead; Jack, Makepeace, Janet and the men snapping a superb military salute in perfect unison, to the delight of the crowd. They held it a beat, then broke for the cover of the council chamber.

"Holy Hannah!" Sam gasped, limp against the nearest vertical surface, which happened to be one Rodney McKay. He certainly didn't mind; she didn't notice. "Now that's what I call a welcome wagon." Eyeing a specific portion of her anatomy, yap zipped firmly shut, McKay appeared to agree with this sentiment. It was left to Sam to figure out where she was and who this was and push him off. Then blame him for it.

If Jack even noticed the byplay, he gave no reaction, made no comment. Everyone took a few seconds to catch their breath, recover their composure before they went in to meet the council, only to find Tuplo had saved the best for last.

The council members stood proudly in front of a cornucopia, a tantalising torrent of colours, textures, shapes, scents. Bolts of silk in every hue tumbled over numerous baskets of the freshest, most colourful vegetables of every variety; delectable fruits spilled over figured silver metal platters while roasted meats and fried fish stood on gold; loaves of fresh baked bread and cheeses nestled in folds of soft wool; berries, nuts and seeds sat in wooden bowls and platters polished to glowing perfection; jewelled goblets held wines; ceramic vases gloated colour and blooms.

"Looks like Santa came down the chimney," Jack said.

"Gifts," Tuplo said. "Gifts for our friends."

"We are proud to call you so," Leedora said.

"You are welcome here," Kitane said. "Most welcome."

"Let this first offering speak of the bounty to come," Pitaja said.

Carefully rehearsed, if not actually milked, and nonetheless sincere for that.

"Thank you," Daniel said. "We thank you all for your exceeding generosity."

"Please," Tuplo said, moving forward. "Sit."

Daniel took the seat opposite him as he had before, this time with Jack at his side, Janet and Makepeace beyond.

"There are strangers among your number, Lord Daniel," Tuplo said.

"This is General Jack O'Neill. General O'Neill is the leader of our people as you are the leader of yours. He wished to pay his respects to you and to negotiate the terms of our trade with you in person."

"General O'Neill," Tuplo said with a slight, dignified bow. "It is an honour."

"High Councillor Tuplo," Jack said. "I'm not a man easily impressed. But what I've seen here today impresses me greatly."

"You see that we honour the land with our care and in return the land blesses us with its bounty," Tuplo said.

"I've seen your people," Jack said.

A surprised murmur of approval ran through the councillors. Tuplo flushed beet red and could only bow his head in graceful acknowledgement of the compliment.

"My people started talks with you," Jack said. "They spoke of those you call gods and we call our enemy the Goa'uld."

"They spoke of that which could reside within the body of a man or a woman and, unseen, spoil them," Leedora said. "The spoiling that leads to evil inflicted on others."

"How do you feel about your gods now?"

"We feel…differently," Leedora said. "You travel through the ring of the gods. You bring weapons, tools, even ideas greater than our own. You have power, yet you do not call it magic. You do not wish us to bow down before you, but to stand and to question, to think and seek the truth of things. You do not use your power to crush, but to heal. You ask that we listen and choose to trust if we can. You offer proof where we cannot."

"The council has thought and questioned," Tuplo said. "Sought the truth of things. For all your power and knowledge, which are so much greater than ours, we would have bowed to you. Bowed gladly for your kindness to us and for all you have done for us. We thought you gods and you have corrected us. We fear those we call gods. From that fear, we have not seen them clear as we have seen you. They bring weapons, tools, power greater than our own and use it to crush us. They do not ask, or wish us to question, they only demand that we submit to their will and obey. If you are not gods, they cannot be, for by their actions they have proven themselves lesser than you. I will call them gods no longer."

"That's good. What we hoped," Jack said. "Now I have something to tell you. I want you to understand the situation we're in before you agree to trade with us. The Goa'uld are our enemies. They destroyed our entire world a few days ago. Attacked in such force we weren't able to fight them off. They…wiped our people from existence. Just a few of us survived. Moved to a world, a safe world they don't know about."

Even Daniel couldn't decide if Jack's candour was really, really dumb or really, really smart.

"Have we not suffered at the hands of those you call your enemy?" Leedora asked. "In our ignorance and fear, in the living deaths of the Touched, in those men and women taken to be spoiled by their kind, the people they have murdered, the crops plundered? We have rebuilt. As you will. In time, and with our help."

"Help you're still willing to give?" Daniel asked.

"Are you not in need? Did you not give your help to us, heal us, despite your need?" Tuplo asked.

"Or because of it," Daniel said, strolling nonchalantly through the diplomatic door Jack had opened.

"It was your choice to help, not to harm. To ask, where you could have taken," Tuplo reminded Daniel.

"No. We couldn't," Daniel said.

"No. You could not," Tuplo said, smiling at Daniel. "That is why we will help and give of ourselves freely. We will not by our actions prove lesser than those we name friend."

"Thank you," Daniel said.

"We are curious though what it is you seek to trade with us for your part in the bargain," Leedora said.

"We thought…can we help you to ask more questions, the right questions?" Daniel prompted. "To learn what you need to grow as a people, a society."

"To gain the knowledge and power that is yours?" Leedora queried.

"Some. What would help you, not harm you," Daniel said. "You would learn these things in time, like an apprentice learns from a craftsman."

"Like healing," Janet said. "Recognising and caring for common ailments, treating wounds and injuries."

"As with the Touched?" Kitane asked. "We have obtained the answer you sought, Captain Fraiser. That which is eaten by the Untouched but not by those who were once Touched, and must now be eaten by all. It is only a berry. The titiku berry which grows freely along the banks of our rivers. A quantity has been gathered for your use."

"Excellent!"

"We can also help defend you," Jack said. "We have a device, a tool called an iris. It covers the Stargate."

"Seals the ring of the gods," Daniel said.

"Seals the Stargate, preventing it from being used by the people you don't want to come through it."

"By those who are our enemies, you mean?" Leedora asked.

"You control the iris, not us," Jack said. "If we want to visit the Land of Light, we'll send a special message to you. One you know could only have come from us. Then you open the iris and our people can travel through the Stargate to you."

"What is your land called?" Tuplo asked.

"Genesis," Daniel said before anyone else could. "It means creation. The building of something new."

"General O'Neill," Tuplo said. "Will the Untouched be permitted to travel through the 'Stargate' to your land of Genesis?"

"Yes. In time," Jack said.

"When we're more familiar with one another and we've established the behaviour each of us expects from visitors," Daniel added. "But you and the other councillors are welcome to visit Genesis while we continue our negotiations."

"That would be truly wondrous!" Leedora said, her face lighting up.

"You do us great honour!" Tuplo said, equally enthused.

"I think it's only fair you get the opportunity to see more of who we are and what we have to offer," Daniel said. "There are some things we're unable to offer you in trade and we ask that you trust us on those. We can give you an iris with which to seal your Stargate against enemies, but we can't give you our weapons to arm yourselves. We can give medicines and vaccines to help the sick, but we can't give you the machines to make them."

"A farmer may sell you his crop, but there will be no crop if he sells the field," Pitaja said philosophically.

"Our way of life is very different than yours," Daniel cautioned gently. "We value those differences and we hope you will too. We don't want to change the People of Light, we don't intend for you to follow our ways. We don't believe we have all the answers. But I do hope we've learned from our mistakes. Learned some lessons that could help you live your way."

"Your words are wise, Lord Daniel," Tuplo said.

"Please. It's just Daniel."

"There is one suggestion, one request that I'd like to make upfront," Jack said. "Can we move the Stargate?"

"Move?" Tuplo echoed, incredulous.

"Explain," Leedora instructed.

"We would like to move the Stargate into or at least closer to the city," Jack said. "With the iris in place, you would have greater protection than if the gate remained in the Land of Dark. It would be easier, more convenient for trade and meetings of this nature. And in time, for our people to exchange visits."

"You would need to keep the Stargate under constant guard, much as you do this council chamber, and keep your people at a safe distance from it with a fence or a wall," Makepeace added. "We do the same with our gate. When you visit Genesis, I can show you what you'll need."

"Will you at least consider it?" Daniel asked.

"If they are not gods, who is there to be offended?" Leedora asked matter-of-factly. "I confess I like the notion of what was once the ring of the gods serving our people and our purpose."

"I like that notion too," Jack said.

"Will this iris seal the Stargate before it is moved to the Land of Light?" Tuplo said. "It would reassure my people to know all danger is past before it stands amongst us."

"That can be arranged," Jack said.

"Then let it be done."

"And now you will honour us and partake of our bounty," Leedora said.

"Finally! Thought I'd starve to death before they rang the dinner bell," McKay said, showing an impressive turn of speed motoring the length of the council chamber from his perch on the entryway stairs over to the buffet. Then he subjected the displays of fruit to intense scrutiny before diving in with glee.

"Some of our ways, some of our people, are very different," Daniel said.  "Strange. The man partaking so enthusiastically of your bounty is Dr. Rodney McKay. And this is Dr. Samantha Carter."

Sam gave the councillors a warm, encompassing smile.

"Doctor?" Kitane said. "That is another word for healer."

"Doctor is also the title of a scientist, someone who studies the physical world," Sam said. "Dr. McKay and I are scientists of that kind. Dr. Jackson is another kind of scientist. He studies the past, the history, literature, ancient languages and cultures of our people. Captain Fraiser is a medical doctor, a healer like you said."

"I am sorry," Kitane said. "It is confusing."

"Don't apologise," McKay said. "From what I've heard, you have nothing to be sorry for. You people aren't stupid by any means. You're grappling with technology, concepts as advanced and alien to you as any we've encountered. For example, there's a device we're working on ourselves. We've had the same amount of time to study this device as you've had with us. I wish we'd made a fraction of the progress you have."

Kitane and the councillors bowed, slightly hesitant to take this as a compliment. The Genesis personnel were floored.

"What?" McKay said, staring at them staring at him. "You guys should try this." He waved a hunk of meat at them. "It's good. Honey-glazed. What is this?"

"Goat," Kitane said.

"Huh. Honey-glazed goat. Not exactly Salisbury steak, but a reasonable substitute."

"We do, uh, we have some crops and herds of our own," Daniel said to Tuplo. "We aren't totally dependent on you to feed us. I'm concerned about our population being an unsustainable drain on your resources. I'd hate to see you sacrificing any part of your way of life simply to maintain the food supply."

"Do not be concerned, Lor…Daniel," Tuplo said. "The Land of Light is truly a land of plenty. Our rich soil, endless sunlight, gentle rains and care for our fields gift us with two harvests each year. It is more than we need. There are great silos in the city filled with grain, stored against times of trouble and need. Now we hope those times are no more, as the gods are no more."

"How large is your population? How many mouths do you feed?" Daniel asked.

"We number more than five thousand," Leedora said. "Our people live within the city, on our farms and in other small settlements that mine and work metals or fire clay."

"We don't have nearly those numbers," Daniel said, glancing around for help.

"Two thousand, two hundred and seventy eight men, women and children," Janet said.

"I foresee no hardship in tending to your needs, Captain Fraiser," Tuplo said. "If not a single field was planted, we would still have enough to feed the people of both our lands for perhaps three years."

"I can't tell you what this means to us," Daniel said.

"I was worried how we were going to get through this first winter," Janet confessed. "Genesis also has a long growing season, enough to produce two crops of some vegetables, but not grain. And it will be years before some of our orchards bear fruit."

"Do not worry yourself any longer," Leedora said kindly. "We will not see you in need."

"I'd like to think we can help you too," Janet said. "Perhaps we can work together on ways to store your food safely for longer periods, or to prevent fresh food spoiling."

"Refrigeration? Good plan," McKay said, circling towards the breads and cheeses. "Clean drinking water, sanitation."

"There are wells throughout the city," Pitaja said a trifle stiffly. "Water is clean and plentiful."

"Recall the part of the discussion where we promised not to change their way of life for our own convenience?" Daniel said to McKay.

McKay waved a nut-encrusted loaf at him in vague acknowledgement.

"Dr. Fraiser," Leedora said. "If you will. We wish to know more of those matters of sickness and healing you spoke of."

"I came prepared," Janet said, beaming. "I brought a device with me, a tool called a microscope. It magnifies objects that are much too small for the naked eye, allowing us to see them. I want to show you some samples of blood under the microscope. One I'll take from myself, the other I took from one of the Touched yesterday. You'll be able to see with your own eyes what caused the illness among the Touched and how the titiku berry keeps it at bay."

"Our…blood?" Leedora faltered. "Our life force?"

"There's no pain, and it's perfectly safe," Janet said. "I know this is one thing you're not ready to take on trust so I'm offering proof. All you have to do is look at it."

"I am willing," Kitane said staunchly, smiling at Janet.

"If this will be of benefit to our people," Tuplo said. "I believe it is our duty."

"Then let's get set up," Janet said, going back to the meeting table with the council rather enjoying the thrill of breaking the rules, their safety assured, and in a good cause, of course.

Seeing Jack engaged in conversation with Makepeace, Daniel went over to Sam and put his plan into action. "I wondered if you'd like to swap quarters with me?"

Sam was surprised. Pleased, he thought, her face softening to the warmth she'd shown him on the hike here from the gate. "I'd like that," she said. "It's thoughtful, Daniel. Thank you. I'll talk to Jack about it." She had her opportunity almost immediately as Makepeace moved off to talk to his men.

Not feeling equal to the task of making small talk with McKay, Daniel wandered over to join the action around Janet, the excited councillors waiting to take their turn at the microscope. There was a suggestion of restive jostling. Leedora was glued to the eyepiece.

"Wondrous! These creatures, these organisms, they swim in our blood!"

"Allow me to look," Tuplo said, politely pulling rank.

"Dr. McKay," Jack said suddenly. "Go back to the Stargate with Dr. Carter, start diagnostics. Colonel Makepeace has assigned two of his men to guide you."

"But…" McKay protested thickly, brandishing a chicken leg in his defence.

"Now, Doctor," Jack ordered.

McKay took the other chicken leg, an apple and a bunch of grapes before trailing off disconsolately. He was doing better than Sam, stalking off ahead of him, her colour high in a tight face, her lips compressed.

"Tuplo, would it be alright if I took a walk in the garden outside?" Jack asked.

"Please," Tuplo said, not lifting his eyes from the prize, not with Kitane and Pitaja waiting to pounce.

Waving off Makepeace and the implied offer of a guard, Jack clamped a hand over Daniel's bicep, marching him through the council chamber and out into the lovely, natural, tree-filled garden before he was disposed to let go. Jack was pissed, Daniel getting there.

"Ow," Daniel said, making a show of massaging the circulation back into his arm. "I take it you'd prefer to keep me close and your fiancée at a safe distance?"

"My relationship with Sam is none of your business," Jack said, looming angrily, that hard, dangerous ugliness back in his face.

"You made it my business." Daniel refused to be intimidated, to back down from Jack, but consciously lowered his voice. "When you took me to bed. With your refusal to accept it was a mistake."

"The mistake was letting you out of my bed."

Daniel walked away from him, deeper into the garden. He didn't have to look back to know Jack was following as if tethered. "I don't know what you want from me," he said. "Or why you want it. Not when it's you, when it's me, not when you have Sam."

Jack caught him, hands firm on his arms. Holding, not hurting. "It's enough I want you," he said.

"No," Daniel said. "It isn't. Not when it can hurt someone you're meant to love and respect enough to marry. Someone I care about."

"You want me too."

"Not this way."

"Sam is the deal-breaker, huh?"

"Your engagement to her -- it isn't a deal you should want to break."

Jack said nothing to this, letting Daniel go when he pulled away. Everything about him told Daniel this was a temporary reprieve. Jack wasn't done with him. With them. Not even close.

"I don't understand," Daniel said.

Jack cupped Daniel's cheek with rough affection. "I know."

"If you'd only talk to me," Daniel began.

The one thing Jack didn't want from him. He did what Daniel had done earlier. He walked away.


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Genesis  
> Author: Biblio  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Jack and Daniel   
> Category: Alternate Reality. Angst. Drama. Hurt/Comfort.   
> Date: April 2010.  
> Season/Spoilers: Season 1. An alternate reality springs from the events of "There But For The Grace Of God."  
> Synopsis: At the end of everything, Daniel Jackson provokes unexpected feelings from General Jack O'Neill and changes both their lives forever.

Daniel had a date. Of sorts. With Janet, in the PX, an apparent treasure trove of treats he'd been missing out on. Strictly rationed. Janet was waiting for him outside the entrance, sending a friendly wave his way when she spotted him across the street. It was difficult for Daniel to get excited about a visit to the neighbourhood store, but he liked Janet. A lot. At a four-day 'no sex, no friendship' impasse with Jack, and Daniel refusing to budge, Janet was the closest thing he had to a friend.

"I was sure you'd stand me up," Janet said, grinning at him as they went inside.

"You, yes. Chocolate, no."

"Charming."

There was nothing wrong with Daniel's manners. "I let you hold the door for me."

She elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

The PX literally was a neighbourhood store. It didn't carry groceries per se, meals were rationed through the commissaries. It did have candy, chocolate, chips, dips, savoury snacks, sodas. It had racks of popular paperbacks and DVDs.

"See how this works?" Janet prompted. "People are pooling their resources. They bring in a book, they take a book away. Same for the DVDs, magazines, comic books. Life, Daniel, right here, right outside of your lab. You don't have to keep going through the gate to find it. People are living, adjusting, coming together in wonderful ways here. Emily Ferretti has started up a sewing circle to teach other parents how to make clothes for their kids. Some of the teenage students at the school are joining too. There's a knitting circle. Art classes are running for all abilities. People who have musical instruments are forming bands, taking bookings for the social centres. A choir is starting up, a theatrical society. The industrial chemists, bless their hearts, are colour-tinting paint so we can start to personalise our quarters. And our friends in the Land of Light have sent us blankets, rugs, wall hangings, fabric for drapes."

"In other words, everyone is getting out and fitting in but me."

"You haven't engaged at all, Daniel. That strikes me as odd when the one thing meant to engage the interest of our resident anthropologist is people."

"I'm engaged."

"Not on this side of the Stargate."

"I'm personalising. I have a blanket, a rug, a wall hanging. I have a ceramic egg on my desk."

"Pick them up here?"

"No, and you didn’t get yours from the PX either. We're both beneficiaries of the councillors' generosity. The egg was a gift from Melosha, the first she's painted since her return."

"You miss your reality," Janet said compassionately. "You're not ready to give up on the life you had there even if you can't get back to it. I understand that. But, please, Daniel. Don't let it cut you off from the life you can make here."

Daniel wasn't sure what to say to this, so he settled for direct action, cutting across the store to the clothing racks in search of anything non-khaki, non-camouflage. Choice was extremely limited, but then so was his interest in clothes. They had jeans, generic blue jeans cut straight and simple. He picked out a pair.

Janet took them from him and put them back on the rack. "Trust me. That is not your size." She took another pair and retained custody. "This is your size."

Daniel checked the label. "This is a size smaller than my size."

"Only if you wear your clothes at least a size too big. This is your size. Your butt will not look big in this."

"Sam bullies me about my clothes too," he said, sulkily picking out a pair of pants exactly like his BDUs, except for being beige rather than khaki. Cargo pants, they were called. His pushy personal shopper approved. He added a plain white shirt, which also passed muster, and a blue one identical to it. Then he saw the promised land. Pyjamas! He found cotton bottoms in pale grey finely striped with white and dark grey, another pair in blue striped with white and navy, each teamed with a t-shirt. "Can I get all this?" he asked. The pants and one of the shirts were going if he couldn't. He hated those baggy green boxers.

"Major Davis made arrangements," Janet said, just this side of maternally indulgent. "You can get more if you want it."

"More?"

"How about this?" Janet suggested, holding up a zippered and hooded sweatshirt in a soft ribbed grey-green jersey.

"I have something like that already. Athletic kit, I think," Daniel said indifferently.

Janet's eyes narrowed.

"That's it!" Daniel said. "That's the exact same look Sam gives me."

"You miss her, huh?" Janet asked, adding the sweatshirt to his haul.

"I don't seem able to connect with this Sam," Daniel said. "She talks to McKay more than she talks to me. If fighting counts as communication."

"Deep down I think she likes McKay more than she'd care to admit," Janet said. "He pushes, she pushes right back. Healthier than the doormat she turns into around…" She broke off abruptly, scarlet. "Damn. I'm sorry. Forget I said that, Daniel, okay? It's none of my business."

"I didn't help," Daniel said reluctantly, commenting only because Janet cared about Sam. "I offered to exchange quarters with Sam. It didn't occur to me Jack wouldn't be amenable. I guess I've created some tension there."

"Amenable?" Janet shook her head in bemusement over this. "Not the first quality that comes to mind when I think of the general but then I guess I don't have quite the same relationship you have with him."

"I…what?"

"I forget you've only known General O'Neill the short time you've known the rest of us. You act so differently with him, like he's a completely open book to you. And he allows it. In fact, he gives you more latitude than he's ever allowed any of us, including Sam." Janet eyed Daniel thoughtfully. "It's quite noticeable. We don't push him the way you do. We can't. Because as you so rightly stated, the rules work in his favour. Only you don't let those rules stop you. And he doesn't expect them to."

"Janet…" Daniel said awkwardly.

She patted his hand fondly. "No wonder Sam's pissed at you. You've managed to throw everything wrong in that relationship into sharp relief and you don't even know it."

"We shouldn't be talking like this."

"No, we shouldn't. But it is a relief. Now, you need shoes."

 Daniel needed chocolate, sleep, coffee, the world and Jack to make sense. Footwear couldn't help with any of that. But he went along with it, feeling horribly compromised. It wasn't only that he was part of the problem Janet perceived, but his own relationship with Jack was under such intense and public scrutiny.

Not for the first time, he wished Jack could just leave him alone. The man's inability to weigh all he stood to lose against the dubious pleasure of fucking a 'clueless virgin' was utterly bewildering.

Daniel's distracted submission to the selection of a pair of unobjectionable tan shoes got him his just reward from Janet. Reese's peanut butter cups.

"One chocolate ration a week, one alcoholic beverage," Janet said, handing over Daniel's new wardrobe to the very large, very bored clerk at the checkout. "Care to join me at the officer's club tonight? We can dot the I's, cross the T's on High Councillor Tuplo's visit tomorrow."

"Uh…"

"I'll take that as a yes, Janet, thank you for asking."

"Card," the clerk said to Daniel. He was robbed of what might've been the highlight of his day when the transaction was processed despite Daniel having two of everything. The clerk had a novel approach to bagging the merchandise, too. No actual bag involved. He put the opened sweatshirt flat on the counter, folded the jeans and cargo pants and laid them on top, then layered on shirt, shirt, pyjamas, pyjamas, shoes. He fastened the zipper on the sweatshirt, folded over the hood, tucked the sleeves into the pockets, and handed it to Daniel. "XO's orders," he said. "We're in a conservation cycle. Permanently."

"For manners, as well as paper," Janet said tartly as they left the PX. "20:00 at the Officer's Club, Daniel. Don't forget, don't be late, don't make me find you."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Dr. Jackson, living large," she teased, sauntering off in the general direction of her hospital, leaving him to balance the load for fourteen or so Genesis blocks and twenty or so minutes of his messed up life he was never getting back.

The clerk's clothes-packing methodology proved to be quite effective. Few creases, easily shaken out. Daniel disposed of his civilian self and thought he should get points from Janet for doing this in his closet, not the trash cans he'd passed on the way here.

Duty done, he was left with what seemed suspiciously like free time to fill. There were many things he could be doing, maybe a few he should be doing, none he felt like doing. Not his usual headspace. Not him at all. The quiet was enough, the privacy of this small space, his only space.

He lay down on his bed, lulled by the natural warmth of the finely woven woollen blanket with its striking inter-locking keys of gold, earthen red and black. A gift from Leedora. He had Tuplo to thank for the wall hanging with its gorgeous mosaic of the athletic men and women jumping bulls. Kitane had contributed the rug and Pitaja the urn, each with sincere symbols of growth and plenty. Ears of wheat and corn, fruits of the vine, birds and fish. The only burst of colour in his grey, unwanted world.

He had given a great deal of thought to the gift he would offer the council in return and had finally settled on one he believed would be of real value to them. He would teach them to make paper and share his pleasure in the written word. Less durable than the clay they used to record economic transactions and great events from their history, but also less expensive. Writing and reading through a medium within the means of all the People of the Light was a gift with the potential to effect great change, but their curiosity about the world was so new and so deep, he had to trust them with it.

Paper was needed here too. He hadn't given any thought to that. Writing pads would no doubt be churned out of some lab on base before their supply was exhausted, but that was not the only type of paper. There was a pure, tactile pleasure in the making and the handling of paper that came not from precise quantities of chemicals, but the blending of natural materials. His own journals were testament to that. He thought he would make the paper for his next journal.

Then he didn't want to think anymore.

He couldn't make the leap to extending this pleasure to other people. Janet had called him correctly on that one. He guessed she'd also called him human. Fallible. He was no gilded, self-sacrificing saint, that was for sure. If the quantum mirror opened? He was gone.

Best not to let himself dwell on improbabilities and impossibilities. He had to keep focus, keep moving forward, reach out for more than he had, more than he was. Try to be honest with himself, ask the hard questions even when he had no answers. God knew he had the practice. He'd run the gamut of emotion losing Sha'uri; the rage, the guilt, the corrosive self-pity that had seen him offer himself up as a host.

The Stargate in all its possibilities had saved his life, just as it had saved Jack on Abydos. He'd poured himself into important work, into exploration, research, analysis. Let discovery pour into him. It never wholly silenced the aching thread in his mind and in his dreams that was the absence of Sha'uri, but he had functioned. He had thrived.

That brought whole other layers of guilt and complexity.

And then there was Jack, challenging him, refusing to lose him to memory or regret, demanding his loyalty, his commitment, his focus. Daniel had fired the shot destroying Thor's Hammer and the hope it represented for Sha'uri. Had made that impossible choice for Jack. He kept on choosing for Jack, even over his work, his saving grace and obsession. He'd done that for no one, not one of the people who'd cared for him or he had cared for, not even his wife.

One of the hardest things he'd had to face about himself was that, while Sha'uri was one of the best parts of his life, she was not his whole life. He hadn't put her first. Was not capable of that. He thought Sha'uri had known that even if he hadn't recognised it. She would not have been so threatened by the opening of the Stargate or the arrival of Jack back in their lives otherwise.

Daniel didn't want to forget his wife. He wanted to hold her face and her presence, her love, in his memory. He wanted to honour her that much. It was about the only thing he could do for her now.

Relatively uncomplicated, compared to everything else he was dealing with.

His mind seemed locked in permanent overdrive, with so many new ideas, problems, people coming at him from all directions all at once, he didn't have the time to waste on his own predicament. Just surviving, like the rest of them.

Holding his wife in his mind seemed as improbable, impossible as holding Jack. His friend. Daniel wasn't even sure he was looking for that man anymore, or knew that man anymore, not when his thoughts and emotions were so tangled with this Jack, this cold, difficult man who wanted to take him as a lover. This man who needed him so badly, even if he could only articulate that need in sex.

Daniel didn't know what to do about Jack. He didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't want to force a choice between himself and Sam. He didn't see there _was_ a choice and he wanted Jack to see it too.

If Jack were free?

That was a choice Daniel didn't want to face.

Difficult as the situation was, he only had to remain steadfast in his refusal. It was as much as he could do. He could rationalise having sex with Jack -- shock, grief, isolation, panic, whatever you chose to call it. Fallible, human need for affirmation, release. He wanted to believe it a mistake. He wanted to move on, for Jack to move on, and to find a friendship unique to them. He wanted to hold on to that, to hope for that.  The world was changed around him. He feared, he was fighting that change in himself. To accept attraction, to experience physical desire, to take Jack as a lover, would change him utterly.

He thought if his focus was on the Stargate and not on the strangers here, he might well be selfish, but he was safer and saner for it.

Then he fell asleep.

He woke to fingers feathering his lips and Jack O'Neill's hooded, hungry eyes.

"You should go," Daniel said, wasting very little time wondering how Jack got in here, how long Jack had been here, sitting on his bed, watching him sleep.

Jack moved only his hand, stroking over Daniel's face with unwarranted gentleness. "You're too damned pretty."

"Nothing's changed, Jack," Daniel said, refusing to give ground. "Nothing will. I want you to go."

"I want to fuck you. Maybe neither of us will get what we want here."

"I don't get this game you're playing. You have to know this reads to me as a power play, nothing more. You want me to roll over and submit same as everyone else? Fine. Pull rank, muzzle me."

Jack's fingers returned to softly trace the contours of Daniel's mouth. "Would it read different if I said I want to make love to you?"

"I wouldn't believe it." Couldn't.

"You're really naïve enough to think a man can't want two people?"

"No. I'm only naïve enough not to want any part in that."

Daniel sat up, unsure if Jack would let him go. Jack didn't hold him, but didn't get out of his way either, forcing Daniel to push awkwardly against Jack's shoulder before he could get his hands under him and scoot off the opposite side of the bed.

"If you won't leave, I have to," Daniel said. "I have a date with Janet Fraiser." He felt rattled and mean saying this but at least he wiped the purring certainty off Jack's face long enough he could grab a shirt and jeans out of the closet and secure the bathroom. He took a quick, cool shower and shaved with hands only slightly unsteady. He was all kinds of relieved when he came back out to find an empty room. These brief, repetitive encounters of theirs were draining.

Dinner was a Reese's butter cup. Just one, as the rest had to last him an entire week. Daniel thought, optimistically, even he could handle one drink on an empty stomach. The doctor was another story. He looked at his watch and bolted.

He was in the process of bolting for several blocks before he realised he didn't know where the Officer's Club was. The one place he knew he'd find officers was the mess so he went there looking for directions. He found Colonel Makepeace.

"Sure," Makepeace said easily, not looking away from the menu board. "I'll walk you over there after dinner."

"Thanks, but I'm already late."

"No rush. Fraiser got paged a few minutes ago to take care of some ruckus over at the hospital." Makepeace smiled pleasantly at Daniel. "The meatloaf's pretty good." He picked out trays for both of them, which left Daniel little option but to join him.

The food was pretty good. Hot and plentiful. Tomato soup and rolls, meatloaf with mashed potatoes, gravy and vegetables, apple pie with cream.

"Glad I ran into you," Makepeace said, sitting at a table a good distance away from the handful of other diners. "I have a couple of things we need to go over."

"Such as?" Daniel prompted.

"We'll be prepping for the Cimmeria mission day after tomorrow. I'd like you to brief the men personally on what we can expect there. I don't imagine Norse Vikings will be quite the pushovers the People of Light proved but we need the same positive outcome from first contact regardless. There's no room for error, or unwitting provocation."

"I can do that. I don't think we'll run into too many problems, though. The Stargate is located on land farmed by Gairwyn and her husband. As humans of Earth, or Midgard, she'll welcome our presence and invite us to her table. The rules of hospitality are sacred, protective. I also think we can count on their sympathy over the attack on Earth by the Goa'uld, or Ettins, who are likely perceived as a common enemy. Throw in the work we can offer their men, we'll be heroes all over again. What worries me is the Unas we'll face when we're allowed to investigate Thor's Hammer in the labyrinth."

"Which brings me to my second point," Makepeace said. "I don't doubt your skill as an archaeologist or as a diplomat, but I want to be damned sure of your combat readiness before we gate through to Cimmeria or Cartago. Particularly Cartago, where there's a real chance we could encounter Goa'uld and their Jaffa forces."

"I can handle myself. Jack made sure of it."

"And in this reality, I'll make sure of it."

Makepeace was so definite about this, so final, Daniel wasn't happy, but didn't try to argue. Didn't really have the energy for it.

"I'd like to think the men and I have shown that you can rely on us," Makepeace said. "I'd also like to think you're willing to extend SG-1 the same courtesy."

"I can't take issue with that," Daniel said. "I'm not taking issue with it. You're right. You have shown your professionalism. I do trust it. You have followed my lead, you have demonstrated trust in my judgement. If we're going to work together, then I'm, I'm open."

At this opportune moment, Jack walked in. He shot Daniel a dark, kindling look, then chose to enjoy his discomfiture. Daniel's only chance of escape was to eat his way out, and he'd hardly touched his soup. With seventeen other tables to choose from, Jack had to pull up a chair and sit at the head of theirs, constraining what had been a relatively normal social space between Daniel and Makepeace.

"General."

"Colonel."

Jack quirked an arrogant brow at Daniel.

"General," he said.

"Daniel."

The pathetic loser who couldn't catch a break and got stood up by his pretend date had nothing further to contribute. He ate his soup.

 "Dr. Jackson and I were just discussing mission prep for Cimmeria and Cartago," Makepeace said.

"I have Kawalsky and Ferretti on my case to reassign those missions to their teams," Jack said. "They want in on the action."

"Action?" Makepeace raised his eyebrows. "The only thing Tuplo's people might kill us with is kindness."

"Speaking of which…you all set for tomorrow?" Jack asked Daniel.

"Wondering what impression we'll make," Daniel said. "The concrete, the utilitarian nature of the base, the very different attitudes of the people -- I hope Tuplo and the other councillors can see past the surface to all you've actually accomplished, the potential for the future this place represents."

McKay and Sam burst into the mess, walking on air.

"We did it!" they announced triumphantly, rushing over to grab seats at the table.

"You're finally getting telemetry from the Stargate?" Jack asked Sam.

She nodded triumphantly, basking in his approval.

"Finally?" McKay echoed.

"If we're deploying this tracking gizmo on a hostile gate, we need to trim some fat off your four-day delivery window," Jack said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," McKay said with slightly more sarcasm than Jack. "When I checked with the Quartermaster Supply for USB-to-DHD connectors, they were fresh out."

"McKay!" Sam said.

"Do you have any idea what we've accomplished here?" McKay said.

"Not if you won't get to the point, no," Jack said.

"We've created a stable data interface between the crystal-based Goa'uld technology and our own," Sam said. "This is huge! The potential is enormous, not only to harvest data from their technology but perhaps in time to control it."

"The Goa'uld didn't build the network of Stargates," Daniel said. "That technology predates their scavenging of it. We were able to prove that when we visited Heliopolis, the meeting place of an ancient alliance of four alien races. Heliopolis wasn't charted by the Goa'uld on the Abydos cartouche."

"Your point?" Sam said.

"Only that interfacing our technology with the Stargate is a vital step forward in our understanding of it, no question," Daniel said. "But it may not necessarily be the best indicator of compatibility with Goa'uld technology."

"I'll take it under advisement," Sam said, parade duly rained on. "Regardless, we've learned more about the DHD, or Dial Home Device, in the past four days than in the past four years."

"That knowledge is paying off unexpected dividends," McKay said. "Obviously, gathering the intelligence on Goa'uld strongholds courtesy of the Chulak gate is our first concern, but we're also confident of getting a lock on the Abydos gate."

"That's great!" Daniel said.

"The Abydos gate was nuked," Jack said. "The cartouche represents a priceless intelligence asset and I'd like nothing more than to get my hands on it, but if the gate is gone?"

"That's the thing," McKay said.

"We don't think the gate is gone," Sam said. "One, as a superconductor it can absorb nuclear energy, and two, the wormhole was still active when the bomb detonated, sealing the gate in Trinitite, a glassy substance formed from sand and stone fused by the heat of the nuclear detonation."

"Kind of like an iris," McKay said, slowly and clearly. Spelling it out for the idiots. "Not impenetrable like the titanium alloy the iris is constructed from, but certainly enough to prevent the SGA dialling computer from obtaining a lock."

"Which helps us how?" Jack asked.

"The Goa'uld, using a Stargate activated by a DHD, were able to dial the Earth gate numerous times during the attack," Sam said. "They were able to establish a wormhole, the iris only preventing matter from reintegrating. You see the parallel."

"Not seeing how it helps," Jack said.

"We had an idea," McKay said.

"Jeanie Miller had an idea," Sam said. "She's been working on the Abydos problem while McKay and I have been successfully developing our Stargate telemetry device."

"STD. Catchy," Jack said. "What's this idea Mrs. Miller's come up with?"

"Jeannie is theorising we can bombard the Trinitite with sub-atomic particles barely small enough to reintegrate, producing energy as they decay," McKay said. "Causing the surface of the Trinitite just above the event horizon to heat up and melt, forming a pocket of superheated gas."

"Then what?"

"Then all we have to do is open the Stargate again and allow the unstable vortex to expand into the pocket to create an even larger cavern," Sam said.

"And how do you propose to turn show into tell?" Jack asked.

"We build a particle beam generator," Sam said. "We have the necessary expertise."

"Do we have the necessary components?"

"We can requisition the majority, build some, cannibalise the rest," Sam said. "I won't lie to you. It's a huge commitment of resources. But we can do this, General. If we want the Abydos cartouche, we have to."

"This particle beam generator? Are we talking ray gun?" Jack asked.

"You mean using the Stargate as a strategic weapons platform?" Sam said. "Also a potential outcome of the project."

"It has merit, General," Makepeace said. "With a powerful beam weapon at our disposal and the intel on Goa'uld strongholds gathered from the Chulak gate, we'd finally have a viable response to enemy aggression."

Jack nodded tersely.

"Wait a minute," Daniel protested. "This was meant to be about exploration, not aggression. Looking for ways to live, not finding more creative ways to die."

"I'm not disputing that," Jack said. "Same way you can't dispute every time we step through that Stargate, we run the risk of crossing the Goa'uld. We understand those risks better than anyone: we've already paid the ultimate price. We could hide out here, hoping to save our lives, or we can get out there and live them. We choose to take the risk. All these discoveries, these advancements we're making, they're coming from you, Daniel. From our people running with your ideas. We're doing what you want, what you said. We're doing it this way. We have to."

"That's good work," Makepeace said to Sam and McKay.

"Excellent work," Jack said. "The three of you, and Mrs. Miller, are giving Genesis a real shot."

Glancing around at Sam in time to see her smile steadying and brightening her face again, Daniel wondered idly what had made it slip when he was the one getting lectured. He didn't have time to dwell. Janet walked into the mess, smiling inclusively at everyone before coming to stand by Daniel's chair and apologising for getting called away.

"You still want to get that drink?" she asked him brightly.

"Please."

Jack's expression went flat. "Why were you needed at the hospital, Doctor?"

Janet looked rueful. "Believe me, Sir, you really don't want to know."

"Humour me."

 Janet's playful demeanour was quashed by Jack's tone. "General." Her expression cool, she took the chair next to Daniel. "Two of my staff were discovered fraternising in an empty room on Four."

"On or off duty?" Makepeace asked.

"Off duty."

"I take it the appropriate disciplinary action has been instigated," Jack said.

"No, Sir," Janet said.

"No, Sir?" Jack repeated.

"With respect, Sir," Janet said. "One week ago, the world ended. It shrank to this, to the confines of the Genesis base. To a population of less than three thousand; eighty one percent military; seventy three percent male; fifty two percent both male and single; eight percent both female and single. We need every one of those unattached female personnel to choose to fraternise if we even want to hold our ground short term. That leaves us with almost half our base personnel single, male, unattached and without legal recourse. You'll forgive me if, in those circumstances, I for one don't know what constitutes appropriate disciplinary action."

"Legalise it," McKay said with a careless shrug. "Fraternising. It's not like you can afford to toss your personnel in the stockade for it."

"And what of morale, good order and military discipline?" Makepeace demanded.

"I personally can't think of anything better for morale than sex," McKay said with a wistful glance in Sam's direction. "And as for the other stuff, take another look at the rules, work something out with that witch you've got in the JAG office so the junior personnel are protected from the senior."

"In time, there could be potential for our population to inter-marry with those of our allies," Daniel said. "Once we get to know and trust each other better, get past our very different social, moral and familial structures and expectations."

"The US military has a tradition of turning the indigenous population of every war zone into a service industry of booze, bars and brothels," McKay said. "And we've spent enough time with the Untouched to know that clearly ain't gonna happen here. Right, Jackson?"

"I believe I just said so. That thing about the different social, moral and familial…"

"Whatever," McKay said. "Bear in mind that according to Jackson's reports, the Untouched are the socially outgoing ones. Bottom line here, General, you have to change the rules on fraternising before the population changes them for you. At least this way you maintain the illusion of control."

"I tend to agree," Sam said. "We have to protect our population and our alliances. With the proviso that all such relationships must be consensual and outside the direct chain of command, I think the choice has to be there for the people who want to take it."

"The alternative is for them to resign from the military and serve as civilians," Janet said. "Not a concern for hospital personnel, but it has to be an issue for SG teams, as well as for our combat, defence and security forces."

"It's not only a question of losing military personnel in the short-term," Daniel said. "But of there being no incentive among the civilian population to replace them over time. No one is going to embrace an option that limits their rights and freedoms so materially. The military has some poor personnel policies that could be tolerated in the past because a private life could exist off the base and outside of the military. That's no longer the case. It may never be the case again. Better to legislate now, establish a workable policy with clear protections bearing penalties for infraction, than to allow the strongest to dictate terms to the weak."

"The highest incidence of rape in wartime is inflicted not on the civilian population, but on serving female military personnel by their male colleagues," Janet said. "Unseen or ignored by senior officers. We have to protect our servicewomen, the wives and daughters of our servicemen, our female and male civilian personnel. We have a duty of care to this community, and, General, in these circumstances I believe the welfare of our personnel is best served by amending the Uniform Code of Military Justice."

"The constitution allows for the setting of legal precedent," Daniel said. "Jack? Colonel Makepeace? What's your thinking on this?"

"My thinking is that here, more than anywhere, the chain of command needs to be protected," Makepeace said. "Our collective survival depends on our collective discipline."

"So legislate for it," Daniel said. "A core policy must exist or Jack and Sam wouldn't be engaged. Extend that existing policy to cover all consensual personal relationships, protect personnel from abuse and protect the chain of command."

"Thank you for that cogent analysis," Jack said. "I'll take it under advisement."

"Maybe you shouldn't make the final judgement," Sam said tentatively. "Maybe you should allow yourself to be guided by your senior staff on this one. We all recognise you have a vested interest here."

Only it was not the vested interest they believed it to be.

Daniel hadn't thought of it in this way, but having sex with him was a criminal act on Jack's part. It made his strange obsession with bedding Daniel even more incomprehensible. If Daniel was aggravated by Jack's complex morality, he also had to admire his refusal to jump at letting himself off the hook as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

"I said I'd take it under advisement," Jack repeated with cool patience. "My senior staff includes Dr. Langford, Majors Davis, Kawalsky, Ferretti, Castleman and Reynolds.  I want their views on this, as well as Colonel Peet in the JAG office, before I make a ruling."

"That's a good balance of views," Sam said. "Three civilians, three married officers, three single officers, a lawyer, a medical doctor, an anthropologist."

"I would only caution you to table that discussion sooner rather than later, Sir," Janet said. "Whatever we as individuals may feel about this, we can't afford to be anything other than practical. Whether we like it or not, we have to all intents and purposes a closed and largely male population to contend with. Problems of a sexual nature will continue to arise with greater frequency and severity over time. Ignoring those problems can only contribute to them."

"Continue?" Daniel said.

"Both the staff involved in this evening's incident were the same sex," Janet said. "They're the first. Not the last. Both have offered to resign their commissions. If we can't resolve this situation satisfactorily, I'll have to accept and lose two of my most promising young officers. The hospital and the community can't afford to lose their expertise."

"You know there are going to be more of these ethical questions raised," Daniel said to Jack. "I'm glad you're open to debate."

"I'm commanding officer of the Genesis base," Jack said. "That makes me a military leader, not a dictator."

"Then may I suggest we hold an election to select a representative of the families to contribute on their behalf to these kinds of debates?" Daniel said. "I think that would be construed as a positive democratic step and, as Sam said, a fair balance of views."

"I'll task Major Davis to organise the ballot," Jack said.

"Thank you," Daniel said, meaning it.

Jack's eyes met his, softening to momentary warmth.

"Now, unless there's anything else?" Jack picked up his knife and fork in summary dismissal.

Makepeace took his pie to go, McKay took Daniel's pie, Janet took Daniel, and Sam took offence. Taking in the tight, angry set of Sam's shoulders as she left the mess, Janet exchanged a speaking look with Daniel. Even he was starting to see cause for her concern. Jack treated Sam with the same distancing formality he did his other senior staff. Sam wouldn't be human if she wasn't irked by that on occasion, but she had agreed to the engagement and to limit her behaviour towards Jack on these terms. Daniel guessed she'd boxed herself into a corner, one she wanted to break out of, and Jack was holding her to.

Daniel was quite dismayed. No wonder Sam felt she had grounds for resentment towards him. She saw the latitude Jack extended him as clearly as Janet, saw the human, the personal connection colouring their frequent public clashes. She wanted that latitude for herself, but Jack was denying her. Sam could no more follow Jack's reasoning on that than Daniel could. She had Jack's ring on her finger, she had the right to his indulgence as well as the right to challenge him.

If Jack's behaviour towards Daniel was throwing his relationship with Sam into sharp relief, the same was true in reverse. More troubling. This wasn't how you treated the itch you couldn't scratch. Daniel hoped, he wanted to believe that at the core it was how you treated and respected a friend. But that was optimism talking. Experience was louder and much more insistent. Jack was controlling, possessive, physical with him, caring less about his character than getting between his legs.

Jack was also…responsive. Touched by Daniel emotionally. Whether he wanted to or not, he cared.

This was what kept Daniel hoping.

"Sam?" Janet called. "You want to go get a drink?"

Sam was upset, willing to vent and take comfort from an understanding friend, but she frowned at Daniel.

"I can take a rain check," he said, backing off literally as well as figuratively.

"I've got a ten-year old bourbon and a chess set in my quarters," Makepeace said. "You play?"

"Yes. Yes, I play."

"Then that's settled." Makepeace took Daniel's elbow, steering him painlessly if pointedly away.

It wasn't settled at all, but the light grip on his arm couldn't be shaken off without him appearing small and rather childish. Makepeace held onto him for a minute or so before relaxing into a familiar, protective stance close to him, their arms and shoulders brushing as they walked. Now and again they would turn a corner, or cross a road, the same light hand resting briefly in the small of Daniel's back. Not the normal hearty courtesy one man extended to another, which made Daniel think Makepeace saw him less as an equal than someone he had to look out for.

Daniel was still mulling the unfairly judgemental nature of this when they reached the accommodation block Makepeace shared with Kawalsky and he was inside the man's quarters before he came up with a reason not to be. Bluntly masculine, but not bleak. A second standard issue office chair stood next to the desk and a good chess set was ready on it. There were books on the shelves, military history, biography, strategy. Classic novels. CDs and a player. Classical music. Classic rock. There was art on the walls: land, sea and sky scapes. The bedcover was mid grey with alternating bands of broad and fine black stripes. All very tasteful, very non-committal.

Makepeace poured them both a shot of bourbon before sitting at the desk. Daniel took the other chair. If not relaxed, he was conscious of feeling less strain in this man's presence, which had to be a good thing if they were to continue working together. He took a sip of his bourbon, which was surprisingly smooth and mellow.

"You don't have any idea about me, do you?" Makepeace said. "Why I would ask you here?"

"The only idea I have is the Colonel Makepeace in my reality would rather have punched me out than played chess."

"You see now that I'm different than him?"

"You were right to call me on it."

"Was my alternate really so aggressive towards you?"

"He was aggressive towards everyone not directly under his command, but I think he had a special place in his heart reserved for me."

"I'm sure he did," Makepeace said, an odd smile playing about his lips. "With that face and that ass, you're his walking, regrettably talking, wet dream."

Daniel mostly inhaled that sip of bourbon, sputtering and wheezing, all the heat in his body pooling on his face.

"Relax," Makepeace advised, not unkindly. "I do find you just as attractive but I'm comfortable enough with my sexuality I don't blame you for it. And I thought, getting to know you a little this past week, after the discussion tonight, you'd be comfortable enough with my sexuality you wouldn't blame me for it."

"I…of course I don't. It's not a question of, of blame. Raging shock, maybe."

"I would like to sleep with you."

Daniel inhaled some more bourbon.

"I'm guessing you have no idea what I could do for you," Makepeace said. "How good I could make you feel going down on you or inside of you."

Daniel put his bourbon down. He'd lost the feeling in his fingers.

"It's an honest offer," Makepeace said. "Simple, no-strings sex. Accept, and I'll make it good for you. Refuse, and I'll regret it, but it won't affect my professionalism."

Daniel met the man's steady gaze. "I believe you," he said. "I have no reason to, but I do anyway. It's the rest I'm having trouble with."

"Not as open as you claim to be or try to be?"

Daniel's mind trembled away from the image of himself spread and wanting under Jack's punishing body. He had no idea if he felt that desire solely for Jack. If he could even feel desire again for Jack. He had no idea what the man in front of him could make him feel if he allowed it.

"It's not a question of gay or straight, Daniel. It's physiology and experience. If I go down on you here and now, guaranteed I'll make you come."

"I have no idea what to say to this," Daniel said. "Even less idea what to do."

"Follow my lead. I know you're curious."

"I'm always curious. Curiosity lured me through the looking glass in the first place. I don't think it should lure me into…" Daniel faltered, his cheeks now leeching heat from the entire room. Into a man's mouth. A marine's mouth.

Jack's mouth.

He was cold where he'd been hot a second before.

"Thank you," he said. "I'm flattered. I'm scared."

"You're saying no."

"I'm saying no."

"It's because of General O'Neill, right? He's in love with you."

"Oh!" Daniel gasped, lurching in his chair. Or in his heart and in his head.

"Sooner or later, O'Neill will set aside his engagement to Sam Carter and come after you," Makepeace warned. "Better be prepared for that."

Daniel downed his bourbon in one burning swallow, then had to get out of there. Away from Makepeace's unbearably intrusive insight. Daniel felt hot and cold, slow and stupid, slogging the few yards that were miles to his quarters, wondering what the _fuck_ this twilight zone could throw at him next.

It threw Jack.

Jack, who took one look at Daniel's face and let go of whatever had brought him boiling out to fight. He pulled Daniel into his room, into his arms, scowling and soothing and solid. He felt so good. So good. Not questioning or mocking or judging. They wound up, not on the bed, but on the floor with their backs to it.

Crashing, completely fucking miserable, Daniel huddled with his knees drawn up to his chest, Jack close beside him, an arm strong around his shoulders, a hand stroking softly on his face and in his hair.

Jack could have done anything to him. There was no fight in him. Jack knew this. He could do anything. Anything. He let Daniel rest a while.

It was another question, another twist to the puzzle. A temporary ceasefire while Daniel trembled through this blaze of never going home, no way back, no way home, he was never going home. Everyone on base had gone through this, would go through this. It was just his turn.

Jack stayed with him, rode it out with him, Jack was his friend. Until a knock at the door brought Sam with her problems, her pain. Her hold on Jack. Daniel was in her way, he got out of her way. Jack let him go, Jack let her stay.

In his room, in his bed, Daniel realised Sam was there to stay. He heard her voice and sometimes Jack's long into the night. Talking. Arguing. Making love.

That was an answer. That was a choice. Daniel, his optimism talking loud and clear, hoped he got a friend out of it.


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Genesis  
> Author: Biblio  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Jack and Daniel   
> Category: Alternate Reality. Angst. Drama. Hurt/Comfort.   
> Date: April 2010.  
> Season/Spoilers: Season 1. An alternate reality springs from the events of "There But For The Grace Of God."  
> Synopsis: At the end of everything, Daniel Jackson provokes unexpected feelings from General Jack O'Neill and changes both their lives forever.

Morning brought, not clarity, but a cheerful Paul Davis with the gift of a grey suit.

"Protocol dictates Class A uniform for the Council of Light's visit today. You need this and I won't have any occasion to wear it," Davis said, shrugging off his generosity with characteristic efficiency. "Mrs. Ferretti will take care of any alterations for you."

"Thank you. You've been very generous and I appreciate it," Daniel said, tone flatter than the sentiments he'd tried to express.

"You mind if I ask you a question, Dr. Jackson?"

"Please, it's just Daniel."

"Paul," Davis invited in turn, then he glanced uneasily over at Jack's door.

"He and Sam left a while ago to get breakfast," Daniel said.

"Good. I wanted to ask you what you thought of this new fraternisation policy? I guess those of us who want to have any kind of personal relationship in the future have a vested interest in getting the policy changed. As with you and, and Dr. Fraiser."

There was something on Paul's face…

"You heard on the grapevine we had a date last night?" Daniel said. "Did you also hear she stood me up? Twice."

"Ouch," Paul said, wincing with brotherly solidarity.

"I think that tells you everything you need to know about our relationship. Janet's job is to bully me mercilessly and my job is to let her. She's locked into this over-protective big sister mode from which I see no escape."

Music to Paul's ears.

"If you like her that much, ask her out," Daniel said. "Please ask her out. Get her off my case."

"I…it would be…completely inappropriate."

"Oh, it's protocol holding you back."

"I am the Genesis XO."

"And Janet is the Genesis CMO, which means she can boss Jack around if she feels like it."

"I'm obliged to obey regulations."

"Oh, I think the real issue here is much simpler than that."

"What could be simpler than following the rules?"

"You're chicken."

"You know Major Kawalsky is interested in her too?" Paul said gloomily.

"Janet Fraiser is a very smart woman. You're a very smart man. The rest you'll have to work out for yourself." Daniel gave him an encouraging smile, then shut the door on him, kindly but firmly.

Showered, shaved and minty fresh, he felt a tad more positive. The suit pants were loose at his waist, riding low even when he fastened the belt Paul had supplied. The plain grey silk tie was a similar shade to the suit and looked fine against his blue shirt. With the jacket fastened, the pants were okay, with just a little bunching over his shoes.

He had to be at the Stargate in less than hour to greet the councillors with the other senior staff, which left him time to force down some breakfast and pour himself into a steaming, stand-up-strong cup of coffee. It was just his luck he stayed put long enough it was Makepeace who poured him a refill, then dogged him on the walk over to the Stargate enclosure.

In the cold light of day, resplendent in his Class A uniform, it seemed impossible Marine Colonel Robert Makepeace had offered to suck Daniel's penis with every evidence of enthusiasm.

That, and Daniel's complete fiery embarrassment.

"You okay?" Makepeace asked with concern and a remarkable absence of constraint in the circumstances. He had that enviable knack of the combat experienced for making himself perfectly understood without ever being audible. "What I said about O'Neill, that was too much of a shock tactic. I didn't expect you would be so completely unprepared to hear he has a strong sexual interest in you."

"I'm okay," Daniel said. "But…." God, he had to ask. "What makes you so sure?"

"I've got eyes."

"He's that obvious to you?"

"He's that obvious to everyone. I just see with different eyes to them."

"He's engaged."

"And in your Disney version of sexual reality no conflicted married man ever took a male lover on the side."

Daniel slumped dejectedly.

"My offer is simpler," Makepeace said. "Think about it."

Every time Daniel looked at the man's mouth, he'd think about it. His curiosity over this new minefield of exploration was going to make him crazy. He guessed Makepeace was counting on it. It would've been easier for him to get Daniel drunk and do what he liked to him than to put himself on the line. Easier, but not in his nature. He was too direct for it.

"Sex doesn't have to be complicated," Makepeace said. "You can just enjoy it. Have fun with it."

"You seduce a lot of straight guys? You're suspiciously fluent in these no strings-no guilt arguments you're pitching."

"A hot straight boy who's never had sex purely for the pleasure of it? Yeah. Maybe you're right. Where's the challenge in that for a combative gay marine?"

  "I'm not as lame, or as naïve, as you make me sound," Daniel said, striving for dignity in the face of some seriously messed up messing with his head. "I'm just an academic in a fairly specialised and unglamorous field. A, a failed one in the eyes of my peers. I've never been propositioned so directly. And, I have to say, I've never _imagined_ being propositioned by _you_."

"Me or O'Neill, it seems. Look, I said I wouldn't pressure you and I meant that. But there are a couple of things you might consider. One: I'm very, very good and I'll make you feel very, very good. Guaranteed. Two: I'm not conflicted about who I am and what I want. I won't hurt you."

By implication, Makepeace meant Jack would.

Swamped by the surrealism of the whole thing, Daniel was truly glad they were out of time. They showed their ID to the guards and swiped through the checkpoint into the Stargate enclosure, Makepeace resuming the calm professional demeanour Daniel liked.

When he saw the line up in front of the Stargate, Daniel was glad of the suit. With her hair in an elegant chignon, Sam wore a short, smart navy skirt suit and heels that showed off her long legs and matched Jack's dress uniform, while Catherine's flowing black silk skirt and jacket contrasted with her beloved Eye of Ra pendant. Janet Fraiser and Paul Davis were in their Class A uniforms and even Rodney McKay had made a real sartorial effort with a rich, dark brown suit and tie teamed with a deep burgundy shirt.

There was a distinct and interesting pecking order to the line up, with Makepeace next to Jack, then Paul and Janet, followed by Catherine, Sam, McKay and Daniel.

"Dr. Jackson," Jack said. "With me. You've effectively become our voice in this."

Daniel's tentative smile as he passed Sam was not returned, in pointed contrast to Catherine, who touched his hand warmly as he walked by her. It was curiously painful to see Sam so distant, so unmoved by him that she chose not to make eye-contact. To Sam, he was a tolerable colleague, no more. Certainly not a friend. An intrusive outsider with unusual, plainly unwelcome influence over the man she loved.

God help Daniel if she ever discovered Jack wanted to marry her and fuck him.

"It's time," Paul said as the Stargate began to spin, the chevrons locking in quick succession.

Daniel was the only one not to flinch even fractionally when the unstable vortex erupted from the gate. He loved the sight and the symbolism of it, his purpose, his one remaining certainty, perhaps the only one this reality couldn't strip from him.

Ferretti and SG-2 were detailed to escort Tuplo and the other councillors through the gate to Genesis. Ferretti's approach to this was simple. He came through the gate first, his hand on Tuplo's shoulder. His 2iC followed suit with Leedora, then the others came through with Pitaja and Kitane. Their Minoan friends were pale and trembling, daring and thrilled, each of them carrying the gift of a young tree for the Genesis garden they'd been told would be planted today in honour of their new alliance.

"Welcome to Genesis," Daniel said with an easy, natural smile for them. This was a good, uncomplicated thing.

"My friends," Tuplo said. "We thank you for the great honour of being the first of our people to travel through the Stargate to visit this strange new world. These trees are gifts from the Land of Light to this land of Genesis. May they grow strong in the years to come as the alliance between our two peoples grows strong."

"That's a beautiful sentiment, Tuplo," Daniel said. "We thank you for it."

He accepted a tree from Tuplo, then Jack, Makepeace and Paul came forward to accept the others. There was a lot of bowing and saluting and ceremony, introductions for Paul and Catherine, then the first item on the tour itinerary was up.

Sam dialled the Land of Light, let their visitors experience the shock and awe of the unstable vortex, then she and McKay took them forward to ooh and aah over the rippling event horizon. Tuplo bravely put his hand into the event horizon. Leedora, always one to get straight to the heart of the matter, went around to the rear of the gate and pushed her hand in from that direction before anyone thought to stop her. She was amazed when she could see Tuplo's arm disappearing into the wormhole while her hand waved in front of his face.

"Huh," McKay said.

"Don't look at me," Daniel said. "No one in my reality ever tried that either."

"Must be a safety protocol to prevent inadvertent bi-directional matter streaming," McKay speculated. "The bio signal of anyone entering an incoming wormhole at the receiving gate end would be overwritten by the bio signal of the matter streaming to the receiving gate for reintegration."

"Right," Daniel said, watching the innocent glee on the faces of their Minoan friends as they destruct tested Sam's knowledge of wormhole physics.

 "Don't tell me you got that," McKay said.

"I'm an archaeologist, not an idiot."

McKay raised a sceptical eyebrow. Jury was still out on that one.

"The first time the SGC's Stargate was activated, the vortex spilled out of the rear of the gate as well as the front, forming a huge spiral that narrowed to a single point," Daniel said. "It only did it that one time. The wormhole established normally after that. I wondered if it had something to do with us using our own dialling computer rather than a DHD, kind of like a system reboot before normal operating parameters could be established for the new control interface."

McKay's disparaging sniff suggested Daniel was correct and some official report on the base computer was likely to get an addendum.

Sam led the group to safety, disengaging the wormhole before she re-dialled. This time the iris closed over the open centre of the Stargate. When the last chevron locked, they heard the unmistakeable sound of the activating vortex and saw the halo of blue light surrounding the gate, its reflections dancing over the hangar walls and roof.

"Wondrous!" Leedora exclaimed.

"Nothing can penetrate the iris," Sam said. "Nothing can come through the Stargate unless you permit it." She signalled, and the iris was retracted.

"If the Goa'uld haven't visited you in more than a generation, they've either found richer resources elsewhere or the System Lords exploiting you have been overthrown," Daniel said. "I think it extremely unlikely they would ever commit the resources to attack your world in ships as they did Earth and that the iris would be more than adequate protection for your population. You need never fear the false gods again."

"For this alone, we would willingly grant all you ask of us," Tuplo said emotionally, the others murmuring heartfelt agreement. "The emptiness so long in our hearts has been filled with the rescue of our loved ones from the living death of the Touched. We are made whole again. And now, in the lifting of this last curse upon us, we are made free."

"You think this guy has a scriptwriter or what?" McKay whispered to Daniel.

"They are impressive."

"Ignorant. Not stupid." McKay-speak for very impressive.

"Are you ready to take a look at the rest of the Genesis base?" Paul asked, expertly corralling the councillors.

He took point with Janet while Catherine nominated herself official tour guide, asking and fielding questions as the party moved off. Sam's long legs exerted a magnetic pull over McKay, who cut her off from the herd, either science or sexual harassment on his mind. This left Daniel, the preferred sexual plaything of both branches of Genesis military, stuck bringing up the rear between Jack and Makepeace.

"A few more speeches like that, Tuplo could get elected President," Makepeace said.

"I think he already did," Daniel said. "On the surface, Leedora seems more dynamic, a more obvious choice for high councillor, but Tuplo is inspirational, appealing to emotion as well as to reason. I guess that's the difference between an organiser and a leader."

"I don't think there's any doubt the People of Light benefit from strong and rational leadership," Makepeace said. "They're getting something right. They've flourished despite the Touched virus and their enslavement by the Goa'uld. Let's hope some of the magic rubs off."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Jack said unpleasantly.

"Sorry, Sir," Makepeace said. "No disrespect intended."

Daniel was getting very, very tired of this alpha male posturing. Both these men were hardwired to be hardasses. How that translated into all this intense sexual interest in his miserable ass was beyond him. And it really, really pissed him off. 

He marched away from the military, sidestepped the scientific speculation, and cocooned himself in ancient culture and Catherine.

"The grey material used in the construction of many of the buildings on the base is called concrete," Catherine explained. "It isn't beautiful, but it is practical and durable."

"Is decoration forbidden in your culture?" Leedora asked.

"Not at all. You're just not seeing much evidence of it here," Catherine said. "This is primarily a military base and the military values uniformity."

"Why?"

"That's a very simple question and very difficult to answer," Catherine said. "Partly it's because the military wants its people to focus not on the individual, but on the group or the whole. For the group to unite selflessly in its efforts and for the whole to be greater than the sum of its parts."

"It has been our experience that the one may unite with others to achieve a common goal, yet retain that which is the essence and character of the one," Leedora said.

"Our experience has been more complicated and less happy," Catherine said.

Leedora, as skilled a politician as any they'd encountered back home, tactfully let the subject drop. "We are most anxious to visit Dr. Fraiser's place of healing and this place of education and learning you call a school, Daniel. In our culture, a child is readied by his or her parents for marriage and family, by apprenticeship for craft and commerce, by oratory and debate for civic duty and the life of the city."

"You follow what we call the oral tradition," Daniel said. "While our culture follows the written tradition. Our history, our knowledge is recorded. It's written down and read, shared, discussed, expanded on. Over time, we found easier ways than clay tablets to record and share knowledge. That record, that body of human knowledge, became so vast and so important, everyone had to learn to read and to write to try to keep up and no one person could hope to understand all of it. There's a core of knowledge everyone has to master in order to be able function in our society but it's too much to be taught by one person. So we have schools where teachers come together to share their knowledge, like having all your craftsmen and women in one place so children can learn to weave and to make pots."

"If a child was to learn both, would their skill not lessen at both?" Leedora asked.

"That's why our children are educated for a number of years, and why they finally choose to become experts, to learn one set of skills, as yours do."

"Your argument seems flawed," Tuplo said. "Yet we see evidence all around us that more is learned by the children of your society than the children of ours."

"You're about to meet some of our youngest children and their parents here in the garden," Paul said. "The families wanted a safe place for their children to play together, so we offered this plot of grassed land. Our engineers built this playground for the children and we're opening it to them today in honour of your visit."

The plot was grass, no trees, flowers or plants of any kind, and the crowd of moms and toddlers was thin by Minoan standards, but swings always worked their magic.

A proud but bemused Tuplo cut the red ribbon at the entrance to the playground and led a tide of excited toddlers to swings for kids of all ages, including Daniel's; see-saws; merry-go-round; sandpits; a sprawling, complicated timber climber bristling with ladders, ropes, platforms, slides, playhouses and more. The beaming combat engineers were justly proud of what they'd achieved with imagination, ingenuity and a pile of scrap metal illicitly removed from the motor pool.

The councillors were charmed by the small children swarming underfoot. Leedora and Kitane tried out the swings for themselves and were just as delighted as the children. The mother of a young family, Kitane was deeply moved by the pleasure and joy she saw buzzing all around her.

"Will you allow your engineers to work with our artisans on the building of such a 'play-ground' for the children in the city?" she asked hopefully.

"It would be our privilege," Paul said, chalking this one up as a win.

The councillors were invited to plant one of their young trees in each corner of the garden with the requisite pomp and ceremony, then Kitane kindly offered to put out a call for seeds and cuttings from the gardens of the city.

This set the tone for the day. The school fascinated them and they spent a great deal of time not just talking with the students and the teachers over a lunch that aroused their horrified pity, but observing the lessons and trying out activities. They were impressed by the evidence of writing and reading among even the youngest children, the use of crayons, chalks, pencils, paints, the spelling bee. Pitaja painstakingly wrote a message on the blackboard in a dead language only Daniel could read. He translated it on the board for them, a beautiful blessing from the children of Light to the children of Genesis. The older students were in the lab looking at plant cell structure through microscopes and the sight of this wondrous tool in the hands of children was unintentionally sobering to their visitors.

"This is the result of four thousand years of progress," Daniel said, "Four thousand years in which we weren't enslaved and oppressed by the Goa'uld."

"I see why you have so often urged the council to be guided by caution and reason, Daniel," Tuplo said. "It is natural to want for ourselves all you have shown us this day but I think it better we study and question and build for ourselves."

"It's the wise choice," Catherine said. "It could be my age, but I value wisdom over knowledge. It's through our effort and our experience, our mistakes, that we truly learn."

If the school gave their guests serious food for thought, Janet's tour of the hospital absolutely blew them away. One of the diagnostic tools she had on display was a pair of fully articulated, anatomically correct dummies that could be explored from head to toe, skin to skeleton. Leedora and Kitane in particular enjoyed poking around in the human body. The X-Ray and other body imaging machines were a curiosity to them like the microscope. What stopped them in their tracks was the ultrasound scan of a pregnant, placidly cooperative motor mechanic. To see a child growing in the womb was a profound experience literally beyond their belief. The curses of the Heelk'sha obliterated before their eyes. They were extremely quiet and sober when Janet led them back to her diagnostic display in the hospital board room.

"I think they've had enough," Daniel said in a quiet aside to Jack. "Any more and we'll scare them. We're annihilating their belief system and they need a chance to react, reflect. They trust Janet and they really want the help her medical team can give their people. Let's give her the opportunity to show them some of the simpler, practical procedures like sight and hearing tests, vaccinations. Things they can make sense of and share with their people." 

Jack caught his XO's eye and relayed the change of itinerary. Paul bore up well under the threat of having to spend the rest of his day hanging out with Janet. Makepeace was bored but diplomatic, McKay enjoyably engaged harassing Sam, Catherine the happy centre of attention as the Fabulous Fraiser's lovely assistant. Jack eased over to prop up the wall, a friendly hand in the small of Daniel's back steering him along for the ride.

"Doing better?" he asked in a low voice, body attentively angled.

"I'm fine."

"You say that a lot. You ever mean it?"

"I'm resilient."

"You're obstinate."

"Thank you."

"Not a compliment."

"I know."

"You came to me last night."

"You grabbed me in the hallway."

"Just putting in work on that friendship thing."

"I didn't know we had a friendship."

"You giving me any other options?"

"No."

"Like I said. Obstinate."

"You have no idea."

"Want to come on a run with me later?"

"Sure." Positive reinforcement couldn't hurt, right?

"Grab some food after?"

"I could do that," Daniel said, wary but willing to take the risk. He wasn't going to give up on Jack's friendship or pass on the chance to spend time with him, not when Jack wanted it or needed it too. Daniel thought he was good for Jack, he could be a good friend to him, and he was badly in need of a friend too. If Jack was serious, if this wasn't another ploy to get Daniel into bed, well, how Sam dealt with Jack giving some of his time and attention to a friend she didn't care for was up to her. Refusing to have sex with Jack was where Daniel's responsibility to Sam ended. He had to look out for himself. "I'd like that," he said, more diffident than he cared to be around Jack, but coaxing a genuine smile from the man, a smile that reached those intense eyes.

"Good man," Jack said.

Daniel relaxed enough to smile back. He leaned his back against the wall, enjoying the show Janet and Catherine were putting on for the rapt councillors, basic anatomy and physiology 101. Tuplo and the others took it in turns to take Catherine's pulse, listen to her heart, check her temperature and reflexes. Janet put Catherine through her paces on an eye test chart, then got Daniel to do the same. Then she repeated both tests, this time allowing them to put on their glasses. Daniel needed his to see much more than the wall, while Catherine's were just reading glasses.

"My father no longer sees the world as clearly as he once did," Leedora said. "Could your glass circles help him?"

"I could translate a chart into Linear A if you want to prescribe glasses," Daniel said to Janet. "That's the written language Tuplo's people use in their record keeping."

"Father tells me his very bones ache," Leedora said. "Here." She held out her hands. "Here, when he walks." She brushed the red silk of her dress at knee height. "Others of our elders suffer as Father does. Do your medicines heal this ill, Dr. Fraiser?"

"Heal, no. I'm afraid not," Janet said. "Aging is a natural process we can't reverse, but there are treatments that can help alleviate pain and swelling in the joints. I think that when we start the programme of clinics in the city next week, we should include a special one for your elders as well as for your babies and children."

"Thank you," Leedora said, beaming.

"You have shown us such wonders," Tuplo said. "And much patience. I am anxious now to share what we have learned with the people so that they will welcome and not fear the Stargate when it is moved to the city. The bounty of our land will flow through the Stargate to nourish your bodies while the knowledge of your people will flow through the Stargate to nourish our minds."

"The iris for your gate is ready," McKay said while everyone telegraphed gracious acknowledgement to Tuplo. "As soon as your artisans complete the cradle I designed to safely transport the Stargate, I'll oversee the relocation and have my people install and test the iris for you."

"The cradle you speak of will be completed and transported through the Land of Dark to the current site of the Stargate within the day."

"Excellent!" Catherine crowed. "I can't wait to visit the city and meet more of your people, Tuplo."

"The Land of Light will be graced by the presence of such a wise and giving teacher, Dr. Langford," Tuplo said with a courtly bow. "I regret you were not permitted to visit us before this day."

"General O'Neill was impertinent enough to say I was too old and frail to make the trek from the Stargate to the city," Catherine said, bearing a grudge.

"I did not say that," Jack whispered in Daniel's ear.

"A true leader will always be guided by the wisdom and experience of the elders of his people," Tuplo said.

"I couldn't agree more," Catherine said.

Jack's silently mouthed expletive ruffled the hair at Daniel's nape, a warm, intimate breath that made him shiver.

"I was a child when my father found the Stargate on Earth," Catherine said, closing protective fingers over the gold pendant she always wore. "He gave me this on the day his men raised the gate from its burial place in the sands of Egypt. Now my Stargate is buried again, sealed and buried for all time. It would mean a great deal to me to be there when your people raise the Stargate in the Land of Light, High Councillor."

"I am certain General O'Neill will grant me this favour," Tuplo said.

A wily political operator herself, Catherine was certain of it too.

"I'd like to be there myself," Daniel said. "In fact, it would be a gesture of solidarity in our new alliance if our people helped yours to raise the gate."

"Under my direction, of course," McKay said.

Jack ground his teeth.

"I'd be happy to coordinate the efforts of our people and yours, councillors, and to represent Genesis at the ceremony," Paul offered in response to Jack's audibly shortening fuse.

"General O'Neill, Daniel Jackson," Tuplo said formally. "I wish to return to this land of Genesis when my people are ready to learn more of its secrets and wonders."

"You'll be welcome," Jack said.

Tuplo and the other councillors bowed.

"May we now travel through the Stargate to our land?"

"Dr. Fraiser and I will be happy to escort you," Paul said. "We can finalise the arrangements for the clinics and our requirements for the first food deliveries for Genesis." Nicely played.

There was a final exchange of bows, handshakes and pleasantries before Paul, Janet and unwitting chaperone Catherine took their visitors out on the high note of a humvee trip back to the gate and the rest of them took the opportunity to collapse.

"I think the visit went as well as it could," Sam said, smiling at Jack. "They were definitely impressed by the gate and the iris we're offering them. We're in good shape."

"What's your assessment?" Jack asked Daniel.

"I'm hopeful," Daniel said. "I think we got the balance right, showing them positive ways our people are finding to live and build this community, and giving them a feel for how much hard work and breadth of knowledge it takes for us to live this way. I was very encouraged by Tuplo's focus on long-term sustainability and mutually beneficial nature of this alliance, not short-term gain for his own people. He sees our power, the gap between our technology and theirs, but it seemed to me the visit helped defuse that implicit threat and they're taken away ideas from today to help their people and to improve their way of life. We've overturned their belief system but not their core values or their identity. They want to learn from us, not take from us. And I think we have a lot to learn from them."

"Colonel Makepeace?"

"We're in very good shape, General. But I think if we intend to keep it that way, our people are going to need as much education as theirs. As Dr. Jackson and Dr. McKay have been at pains to point out, our track record with indigenous populations is not great. I do not want to see us ruin them."

"Dr. McKay?"

"I would strongly advise posting a permanent technical detail to the Land of Light to operate the Stargate and particularly the iris. I like those people. I don't want to see any of them, or any of us, hurt through entirely avoidable ignorance."

"Dr. Carter?"

"I agree with Dr. McKay," Sam said. "It's too much responsibility for them at their current level of technology and scientific understanding. I'm not suggesting we take control of their gate. Like Dr. Jackson, I'm developing a healthy respect for the council's judgement and sense of responsibility. What they need is technical support."

"Dr. Jackson? You think Tuplo would see it that way?"

"I think Tuplo will be amenable to any reasonable request we make and he'll likely be grateful for the offer."

"Then it's settled. Good work today, people. You're dismissed."

Sam eased down from the table and started towards Jack as Daniel left the room with Makepeace and McKay. "You want to meet up for dinner tonight?" she asked with a smile.

"Sorry, Sam. I can't make it tonight. Plans," Jack said. "Daniel. Wait up."

Makepeace shot Daniel a quizzical look before following McKay down the hallway.

"You want to go for that run now?" Jack asked, Sam out of sight and seemingly already out of mind. "Figured I'd sign out a humvee, drive us down to the shore. Get some air, clear my head before my XO can bury me alive again."

If it was just a run…"Okay."

"You should see more of the set-up here anyway, get better informed for all these trade negotiations."

"That's a fair point," Daniel said, aware Jack was blatantly feeding him all the right lines to get him in the mood and off the base, but loathe to get bent out of shape over it.

"Cimmeria is a Norse culture, right?" Jack prompted. "Vikings go hand in hand with boats. Not just the raiding, raping and pillaging, but boat building? Think they might build boats for us? Fish that lake?"

"That would depend on what we have to offer them in return. The Cimmerians are more advanced than Tuplo's people, iron age culture rather than bronze age, with more complex social and economic structures to complement their technological progress. When SG-1 visited Cimmeria, Gairwyn told us water from the mountains had been scarce, and the poor harvest had driven men from her settlement into the towns to look for work. That was in fact the accepted meaning of 'gone a-Viking' among her people. I think if we can overcome any cultural resistance to gate travel and offer something of value in return for their labour, the Cimmerians would likely consider building and working a fishing fleet a valuable source of employment."

"Good. That lake is, no pun intended, our biggest pool of potential protein and those shoals of fish would be more accessible to the McKay-type mindset if they were on the moon."

"There's a moon?"

"Three. You never look out your window?"

Daniel had never opened his blinds.

"I've got almost as many engineers as combat troops," Jack said. "I've got a pipeline, oil refinery, power plant, power grid, mining operation, a state-of-the-art manufacturing plant under construction, even a goddamned playground. I've got technical teams that can dismantle a chopper one side of the gate, rebuild it and have it flying at peak efficiency in two days on the other. I've got geeks that can build me a particle beam generator or a rocket or network Doom on the base computer. I've got a freshwater ocean teeming with fish, a virgin forest the size of Minnesota on my doorstep. I want a rowboat, even the grunts in the motor pool won't take my call."

"Geeks?" Daniel queried.

"Scientists, Daniel. The kind that have Superman on their shorts and Batman t-shirts under their BDUs." Jack swiped entry into their accommodation block, then held the door. "Half an hour enough time for you to change, grab your stuff? I'll be parked out front here."

"Stuff? It's just a run, right?"

"Right. I thought we'd take along a couple of MRE packs, eat by the lake. Hang out. Talk a while."

Jack was playing him. This was evident. Daniel was sceptical, but his spaghetti spine wanted to roll with it, see where it took them.

"You think it would be easier to clear the air with our butts parked on a bed?" Jack said.

"Of course not."

"So get with the program."

Daniel got. Half an hour was more than enough time to stow his suit, change into his regulation running shoes, white t-shirt and dark blue tracksuit, and start to entertain suspicions of Jack's unexpected compliance with the terms Daniel was dictating for their friendship. Experience cautioned, but optimism and ultimately curiosity won out. If Jack had cleared the air with Sam last night, then why not with Daniel? He had to let this play out. If things did get out of hand, he could always run, right? Literally.

With the entire base at his beck and call, Jack got his humvee in less than half an hour. When Daniel came out, Jack was leaning against the hood, long legs casually crossed at the ankle, very much at his ease in black track pants, running shoes and t-shirt, his eyes shaded by cool aviator sunglasses. He strolled around to the driver's seat, tossed a grey pack into the back of the humvee and started the engine, pulling away as soon as Daniel was in the passenger seat. It was a scarily short drive from their quarters and the Command Post at the heart of the base to the exit checkpoint on its perimeter.

Jack relaxed visibly, letting out a sigh of relief as soon as they'd cleared security. He glanced at Daniel from time to time as he drove along the firm, well-travelled dirt road bordering the base.

"Got to get these roads surfaced, barns built for the livestock, silos to store crops, refrigeration plants," Jack said. "We get a long growing season then pay for it in a short, sharp winter. We're bracing for several months of sub-zero temperatures and blizzards."

"I wondered why my closet was geared up for an assault on K2."

"Was that…humour?"

"Look who's talking. The only time I've seen you crack a smile is when you've been trying to…" Daniel broke off in confusion.

"Seduce you?" Jack supplied.

"We came out here to take a run, right?"

"We came out to take a run, share a really bad dinner, enjoy a little conversation, make love."

A pang of desire struck Daniel low and hard at the words, at the thought.

"We can skip the run if you like," Jack offered.

"Haven't I made my position on this clear?" Daniel said, despairing.

"As a matter of fact, you haven't," Jack said. "See, I finally figured this out. You've been making my position on this clear, selling me on there being only one possible choice and it's already been made, forcing me to be with Sam and not you. You can't admit there's another choice here, can you? You're scared shitless of what I make you feel, what I make you want. You can't even go there."

It was shrewd and harsh and so true it punched out Daniel's heart, leaving him grey-faced and gasping. He hadn't thought of opening himself up to Jack, not once had he let himself think that. He hadn't the heart for the physical intimacy, the vulnerability that struck at his sense of self, the feeling that might anchor him here, so he had put it away from him. Forced Jack to choose against him so he wouldn't have to question the choice he would make.

"I've got bad news for you, Daniel. My relationship with Sam was in trouble before you showed."

Daniel found his voice, if only for bewilderment. "But…last night. She spent the night. You, you had sex."

"Yes, we had sex. Or we tried. She saw I wasn't with her, she believed I had my wife in my mind, and she spent the night anyway." Jack was pitying and disturbed at the same time. "You know who I had in mind, Daniel. You know. You tell me what I'm supposed to do with that. If you see a way for us to make that work."

"I can't."

"Then tell me what you want me to do with that. Tell me I'm hurting Sam and she allows it because she won't see another choice. Tell me to break it off clean, stop pushing Sam to see it's her image of me she's in love with. She doesn't love me. She doesn't know me. Tell me the truth, Daniel. Tell me."

"It's so hard to say." But he had to. Jack was in need, asking this of him, he had to. And he had needs of his own. "I, I want my friend." He realised how this could sound, that he had to be more definite. "I want you as my friend."

"I'm not the man you used to know. I don't choose to be. If you see me as I am, if you want me as I am, you're taking a lover, not just a friend."

"I know." Daniel took a breath, a moment, another breath. Then he had to just go with it, say and feel what he couldn't ready himself for. "I want to be with you."

"You want the sex. I know you weren't prepared for it, I know I came on too strong, but you got under my skin and I wasn't prepared for that either. Making love is the only way I know how to deal with it. With you. The only way I want to."

"I knew you felt something for me when you touched me. How you touched me. What you made me feel when I was with you. I was with you, Jack. I never thought you were him, I could never want that with him. That was clear to me even if I couldn't deal with the rest."

"I won't hurt you."

"I never imagined you would. But I lost everything, Jack. I can't trust, I can't hold to what little the rest of you have to believe in. Genesis is yours, not mine. I had to hold on to the one thing I had left. I had to hold on to myself. Being with you the way you wanted couldn't change this world around me, it would only change me. It will change me."

"I won't hurt you."

Daniel believed him. He did. He saw that he answered some need in Jack, that he eased and lifted something in Jack to warmth and kindness. Daniel had never had a lover. A few good friends, a wife he had loved dearly, but never a lover. Never known that need. He thought, he hoped making love with his friend, expressing care and showing affection, sharing a physical and emotional intimacy, had to be good for him as well as for Jack. Had to be something that could help him cope with this reality. He hoped.

Jack drove them through orderly fields of gold until he reached the literal end of the road amid low, lazy white dunes swathed in tall grey and green grasses rippling in the soft winds. The two of them were talked out for now, but okay with the silence, working together to set up camp in a sheltered spot close to the beach. Daniel pitched the tent while Jack cleared a spot for a fire later. They took their run on the pristine white sand, loping along at the water's edge, the lake reflecting sky, the sun on their backs, a crisp breeze carrying a fresh herbal scent from the stirring grasses. They ran until their muscles were pleasantly loose, sweat pricked their skin and their heads cleared, then they slowed their pace, turning back to collect driftwood.

Jack looked better, looked like himself. Friendly, relaxed, responsive, walking close to Daniel, expectant and hungry, wholly engaged with him. Daniel's diffidence in the face of all this attention charmed Jack.

"You seem to know everything there is to know about me. Let's level the playing field," Jack said. "Tell me something about yourself."

"I went to UCLA when I was sixteen and had my doctorate in anthropology before I was twenty. Then I transferred to Chicago to study archaeology and philology through Dr. David Jordan's doctoral research programme at the Oriental Institute."

"Tell me about you, Daniel, not your academic credentials."

"That is me," Daniel said. "You want the reader's digest version? My parents died when I was very young, I went into foster care in New York because my grandfather was too obsessed with his own work to take me. I went to UCLA at sixteen as an emancipated minor because they gave me a full ride scholarship and because it was as far away from New York as I could get. I lied about my age in a vain attempt to fit in at school and I kept on lying in an equally doomed effort to make my particular brand of youth, prodigious academic achievements and outlandish theories on cross-pollinisation of ancient cultures less toxic to the archaeological community. I was so obnoxious to my peers, so obsessed with my research, I had one friend. Robert Rothman, my research assistant. Ultimately our paths diverged because he found mankind 'too recent.' At least he wasn't around to watch me laughed out of academia, unlike my mentor Dr. Jordan. My complete romantic history consists of occasional Thai food with one woman, miserably failing another who fought and failed to hold my attention long enough for us to connect emotionally or physically, and a wife who was a gift from the Abydonian elders trying to appease their wrathful god. Oh, and one time I got roofied by a Goa'uld queen."

"You're too hard on yourself," Jack said.

"No. I'm not. I failed my marriage when I became obsessed with exploring the catacombs around Ra's pyramid and excavated the cartouche. I failed the trust of the Abydonian people when I unburied the Stargate for my own experiments. I failed my wife and her brother when I opened that gate to Apophis. I couldn't save Sha'uri, I couldn't save Skaara. I failed Dr. Jordan, I failed Sarah Gardner, I failed to show the archaeological community the truth of our history, I failed in my career. I just hope I haven't failed my reality."

"You haven't."

"How can you sound so sure? How can you know?"

"Because you haven't failed me. You haven't failed my alternate. Because I know myself. I'm a cynic, Daniel. I don't believe anything, I don't take anything on faith. I want proof. I didn't believe your story when you came through the gate but I had to accept the evidence on the tape. My alternate wouldn't believe your story either, not if you were in front of him asking him to trust you on it. But he can and he will believe the evidence on the tape."

"I want to believe that. I want to believe my friends are safe and going on without me. I want to have faith."

"You think about this? Them?"

"I try not to. Not consciously. It tears me up so I can't function. But the thought is there, the fear for them, under everything. All the time."

"Welcome to my world," Jack said dryly. "I'd be paralysed making a decision if I let myself think of all the ways I can screw Genesis."

"You needed this. The quiet, the break. You look…better."

"I need the sex."

Daniel flushed, embarrassed by the weight of that need, but not shying from it.

"I need the trust," Jack said kindly. "Who knows why. Why with you, I mean. You barged snapping and snarling into my reality; stubborn, sarcastic, demanding, a stranger who knew me better than my wife. I couldn't stand you."

"That was evident."

"I couldn't stop thinking about you. Still can't. I can't explain it but I have to accept it. We connected. I fought it and then I wanted it. I want you."

It was enough for now. There were other questions, but Daniel wasn't sure either of them had answers. Not yet. He couldn't articulate this attraction and couldn't expect Jack to either. They were communicating, sharing, and he was so glad for that. They walked back to camp, got a fire going more for the comfort of it than for warmth in this drowsing heat, shared a simple meal of spaghetti and lemon pound cake while the sun set.

Jack was too restless, too needy to sit idling by a low fire. They went into the tent before the moons rose, Jack opening out the sleeping bags and laying one on top of the other in readiness while Daniel put his glasses away safely and took off his shoes. Jack was very focused, very direct in his intent. He took a towel from his backpack to protect the sleeping bags, stripped naked, folded his clothing, and came to Daniel while he was still trying to think through what they might do and how they might proceed. Jack knew. He helped Daniel strip, then knelt beside him, staring into his eyes, slow fingers stroking his face.

Daniel was equally free to touch, and did, making his own exploration of a face that was so familiar to him, the mask of a man he was only beginning to know. Jack wanted to be touched as much as he was touching Daniel, nuzzling his cheek into Daniel's cupping palm, kissing the pulse beating at Daniel's wrist.

Neither of them seemed to move, or they moved together, their mouths connecting in a softly questioning brush of lips. Tongues flickered, tasted, teased. Lips parted, kisses deepened with wet, gorgeous suction, panting thrust and parry.

They lay down together, Daniel easily taking Jack's weight, liking Jack's weight on him, spreading for him, stroking down the strong, clean lines of his back and shoulders, the hard curve of his ass, lean thighs, sliding toes over his calves. They kissed and touched and rocked together, growing aroused, intimate.

Daniel took Jack's penis into his hand, amazed by a heat and hardness not his own, the unfamiliar length, girth, weight, the different pleasure points and sensitivities. He liked the feel of Jack in his hand as much as Jack liked Daniel's hand on him. As much as he liked Jack's hand so forceful and eager on him.

Then Jack's weight shifted, he kissed a trail from the hollow at Daniel's throat down his chest, his belly, down to his penis. Desire coiling heavy and low, Daniel cried out at the sensuous swipe of warm, willing wetness there, the lingering, circling tongue, the teasing suction, the delicate fingering of his sac. He reached down to hold Jack's head, hold Jack right _there_ , doing _that_. Jack's fingers slid down, stroking, stroking like his tongue was stroking Daniel's throbbing penis, stroking in. Jack stroking him and licking him and sucking him and all this noise, these moist, breathy, embarrassing whimpers at the back of someone's throat.

"How do you want to do this?" Jack asked, assuming Daniel did want to do this. "There's one position I really like, but it'll have to wait until you've tried this a few times and we're in a bed."

There were all kinds of layers and connotations to address in that, but Daniel went with the obvious one. "You have experience?"

"I've been with a few women in my time."

"Experience with men?"

Jack was amused. "Not since high school. Don't look so surprised. I grew up in rural Minnesota. Nothing to do but fuck and fish."

"Oh."

"So how about we try a position that lets me take it slow and you take it easy?" Jack rolled onto his side, spooning Daniel in front of him. He nudged Daniel's top leg forward, then kissed the back of his neck.

 Daniel hadn't expected to get here so quickly. He didn't know how to feel now they were here, or what to do. He barely had time to think they were really doing this, Jack was really going to fuck him, then they were doing it. Jack was a warm weight against Daniel's back, hard hands holding his hips, hard heat centring against his ass, pushing, pushing, a deepening, deliberate pressure of hungry penis and working hips, Jack penetrating him, inside of him, Daniel stretching around him, an agonisingly slow burn of thrust, rest, thrust, then a long, deep relentless burn that buried a groaning Jack to the balls.

"God, you feel so good on me," Jack said, folding his arms over Daniel's chest, lips grazing at his nape and throat.

Daniel wasn't sure what he was feeling. The sensation of fullness, the feel and the sense of Jack being inside him, the intimacy of what they were sharing, those were all extraordinary to him. They truly could not be closer.

"Ready?" Jack asked.

Curious, actually. Daniel had read dozens of ancient texts, paeans of praise to male desire and the pleasures of penetration, but it wasn't quite living up to the hype so far. He wasn't comfortable, but the burn was receding, and there was no real pain, so he guessed Jack was doing something right.

Jack did something very right. He began to move, a slow and supple roll of his hips that softly stroked his penis deep inside Daniel, brushing over and over a sweet spot that rippled pleasure and made his head swim. Jack fucked him like that, slow and deep and over and over, rolling his hips, rocking their bodies, soft and slow and deep and on and on and on.

Jack fucked Daniel, stroking his chest, belly and face. He fucked Daniel, kissing his throat, his shoulder, his mouth. He fucked Daniel until their skins flushed and pricked, sweat beaded their bodies, moans and gasps mingled. He fucked Daniel until he was close to coming, then he stopped, they kissed, they rested together, and he fucked Daniel more. It was the gentlest thing.

Daniel reached up to stroke Jack's face and hair, he reached down to stroke himself, Jack reached down, both their hands on him, sliding over his skin to the same easy rhythm as Jack's skin sliding in him.

Jack moving in him, Jack moving him. Making love to him, with him.

Daniel felt melting heat and lightness in his chest, he felt Jack's strength and care and desire for him, he felt he could move, rocking back as Jack rocked forward, he felt Jack's groans of satisfaction muffled in his hair, he felt the throb and pulse of Jack's penis pounding him and his own liquid, jolting shocks of pleasure. He didn't come with a scream or see stars, only a sob in his throat, the strong, incessant pulse of semen over his hand and Jack's, the pumping heat of Jack's prolonged orgasm inside him, Jack's semen there.

They lay entwined, content, kissing, caressing, while their hearts slowed and their bodies cooled. Jack was loathe to relinquish his hold on Daniel's body, slow to withdraw from him and thorough taking care of him. Aching and exhausted, that light, loose feeling lingering, Daniel allowed it. It seemed to him what a friend would do. Jack cleaned up, zippered the sleeping bags together and slid naked and smiling into Daniel's arms. He was tactile, openly affectionate, rubbing Daniel's back, smoothing his hair, stealing kisses.

"Doing okay?" Jack asked.

"I think so."

"Think this is something you want to keep doing with me?"

"You know it is. You made sure of it."

"My pleasure," Jack said, sleek with satisfaction. He had taken his time, taken his pleasure, but he'd also shared pleasure with Daniel. There was no false modesty. With that measure of strength, stamina and skill, his generosity, Jack didn't need Daniel to tell him he was a superb lover. He knew it.

Overwhelming to an overly serious and sometimes shy man who had learned all he knew of lovemaking and emotional intimacy with his equally inexperienced but eminently practical, capable wife. Daniel and Sha'uri had taken care with one another, had loved one another, but sex had never been the driving factor of their marriage. Too much of their energy had been directed outside of their relationship, to guiding Sha'uri's people in their newfound freedom and Daniel's driven explorations.

In private, Sha'uri had been open in her feeling for him, never making him doubt his place in her heart or her life, but she was not romantic. As likely to laugh at him as to take him to bed. He missed her, a part of him would always miss her, but his love for her was knotted in guilt, pity, horror at her fate and his part in it. Much as her love for him had been subsumed from the start in her sense of obligation to her people, her overt pride in his status among them as a leader, a teacher.

They were good together. Partners and friends in marriage. But that was the past and Sha'uri was gone. Daniel was here and Jack had him, taking him as a lover before he was sure of Jack as a friend. Daniel didn't entirely understand what they had or where it would take them. He didn't know if their connection would deepen or if this physical need would cool. He only wanted Jack this open and aware with him, wanted Jack to talk and to listen, to be with him. He needed this feeling of peace, the simplicity of caring and being cared for, the anchoring commitment of friendship, he wanted the harmony, the intensity of sex. He was more hesitant to say this than to think it or feel it, but he could touch Jack and kiss him, sleep with him.

Daniel slept soundly and woke in the cold before dawn, slid out from under Jack's cradling arm without disturbing him, pulled on his pants and t-shirt, then crept barefoot from the tent to relieve himself. He stood watching cool grey light touch the sky, stiff and a bit sore from their lovemaking, his emotions cooler and more confused. He wasn't sorry for the sex, he had enjoyed their intimacy too much to be truly sorry, but he had massively complicated his already difficult life, committed himself to a sexual friendship before he was reconciled to his reality. Unsure he could ever be reconciled to his reality.

"Panic attack?" Jack said, emerging to take care of his own business.

"Not quite," Daniel said. "Just the usual sense of being in completely over my head."

Jack stood behind him, holding him confidently, comfortably, coaxing him to relax back into the heat of his body. Jack was half-hard, hips nuzzling, hungry for Daniel again.

"You want to go again?" Jack asked.

God help him, as soon as Jack touched him like this, he did.

They went back into the tent, shed their few clothes and lay down together, hands and mouths urgent, bodies quickening, Daniel on his back, his legs wide and high when Jack entered him, spearing him in a smooth, powering thrust. No rest, no respite this time, just snapping hips, deep driving thrusts, a sumptuous pull of flesh on each outstroke. Jack went deeper, harder, longer, angling his hips to strike Daniel's prostate. Daniel's whimpers of dazed excitement had Jack growling and heated, loving the legs Daniel hooked around his back to hold him deep, hold him _there_ , the bruising fingers on his shoulders, the strangling kisses. Jack wouldn't let Daniel touch himself, possessively reserving that gratification for himself. His hand was strong and sure, stroking, squeezing, wracking Daniel's body with sensation, pleasure shocking faster and stronger, faster and stronger, until he couldn't bear it and he came for Jack in ribbons, arched and clenching in orgasm. Deep inside him, Jack's penis pulsed and shot heat while Jack's mouth was tender and speaking on his. They held each other while they calmed and caught their breath, Daniel's gauche, grateful hug as pleasing to Jack as his kiss. They rested together, relaxed, slept a while longer.

When Daniel woke, he was alone in the tent, overheated from the sleeping bags and the early sun, sticky from sex and all too aware of pain from the penetration. He wasn't inclined to second-guess his choice here, he just wanted to be up and moving. He could hear Jack moving around outside but he stayed in the tent long enough to clean himself off with the wipes Jack had left out for him, then pull on his boxers, pants and t-shirt. Daniel had a notion to start this day fresh.

"I'm going to take a swim," he said as he ducked out of the tent. Brisk, all business, very much not embarrassed to face Jack's wide, wolfish morning smile and comprehensive once-over. Okay, just short of embarrassed. "Feel like joining me?"

"The sun hasn't been up long enough to warm the water," Jack cautioned.

"Holding out for a hot shower, huh?"

"Willing to trade up for a hot piece of ass." Jack abandoned his perusal of the MREs to saunter in Daniel's direction.

"This ass is off limits for the foreseeable future," Daniel said feelingly.

"Damn," Jack said, not in the least sorry for being the pain in it.

 They stripped down to their shorts, ran to the water's edge and plunged headlong into the bracing chill of the choppy surf, striking out hard to warm their muscles quickly. They swam side by side, parallel to the shore, wary of currents and other unseen hazards. They swam until Daniel felt alive and awake and willing to face the day, bursting out of the water with coffee in mind. Gathering their clothes, they jogged back to camp, letting the sun dry them before they dressed and sat companionably close to eat.

Breakfast consisted of cheese omelettes with vegetables, toaster pastries and mixed fruit, bread and blackcurrant jelly, a nasty orange drink that was to juice what Astroturf was to grass, and the precious coffee.

"Regrets?" Jack asked after a while.

"Some," Daniel said. "I'd be lying if I pretended otherwise. I'm not sorry we made love, but I am sorry for hurting Sam with it."

"You're not hurting her," Jack said. "That's all on me. I pushed you for this, Daniel. I'm the one who can't be with you any other way. And I'm the one who went along with the engagement even though…" He broke off, scrubbing his face impatiently.

"Even though you were still in love with your wife."

Jack's brows drew down in that dark, ugly look, but his anger was directed inward.

"I'm sorry you had to leave her behind," Daniel said gently. "I know how that feels."

Jack shook a curt head, not ready for Daniel's empathy. A second later, he reached across to squeeze Daniel's thigh, taking the sting from the snub. "I'll talk to Sam," he said. "Today, if I can. Break it off clean."

"Look," Daniel said. "I'm not sure what the limits are for us, where we cross the line with each other. But what's important to me here is your friendship. I want to be with you, Jack, but I don't want the fact I'm sleeping with you to come under public scrutiny. I value my privacy. I hope you can respect that."

"It's nobody's business but ours," Jack said. "We're friends and that's the end of it."

"Do you intend to say anything to Sam?"

"You're not the reason it didn't work out between us."

If it was what Daniel wanted to hear, it was also the truth. Jack's sexual interest in Daniel was undeniably a factor, the final impetus Jack needed to break it off with Sam, but it wasn't the cause of their problems. His life taking a different path in this reality, Jack hadn't found a measure of closure or made the choice for life on Abydos, hadn't begun to heal when he met Sam Carter. Still in mourning for Charlie, frozen with guilt and bitterly angry, in love with his wife, Jack had slipped into a relationship with Sara's carbon copy, a compromise that could never have worked. Jack could never replicate the family he'd lost. Daniel was saddened it had taken Jack and Sam to this point for Jack to fully realise his mistake. There were no easy answers here, no quick fixes for any of them. Jack couldn't be with Sam but felt compelled to be with Daniel. Despite Daniel's good intentions, Sam was going to be hurt and isolated from Jack. Daniel couldn't control the nature of Jack's feeling for him and had passed the point of wanting to. He was not sorry he was with Jack, yet he still felt insulated from everyone and everything else.

 "I seem to be getting more confused by the minute," Daniel said ruefully.

"Hey! Why should I have the monopoly on that?" Jack said. "I haven't been able to think straight since we met."

"And here I was foolishly thinking at least one of us knows what he's doing and what we're letting ourselves in for."

Daniel spoke lightly, jokingly, but Jack reached out to him anyway, combing fingers through wayward strands of his hair.

"You get this isn't only about sex for me?" Jack said.

"I wouldn't be with you if I thought it was."

"I like you. I…like the way I feel when I'm around you."

"Your friendship is important to me too," Daniel said, finding Jack's demonstrations of physical affection very pleasant.

"Might even be legal by the time we hook up again."

"You getting tossed in the stockade would be that final complication we're looking for."

"Not this time. With Davis, Kawalsky and the JAG officer in favour of Fraiser's proposal to change the policy on fraternisation and Catherine bigger on civil rights than military ones, even if the family men Castleman, Ferretti and Reynolds are all against it, that's a majority of nine senior staff to three with one abstention."

"I understand why you'd abstain."

"Yeah, as CO I'm the only one on base who doesn't have a military equal and I can't be seen to jump at that licence to fraternise for myself. The other consideration here is I'll be covered legally and ethically if word does get out I'm involved with you. I didn't table the proposal or vote in my own interest."

"Involved," Daniel repeated, trying the concept on for size. Involvement was active, emotional. Involved implied necessity, a requirement he and Jack both had for the other to be an intimate part of their lives. Involved was complicated. It fit them and what they had even if it didn't fit anything else about this reality.

"Colonel Makepeace is putting you through your paces on the firing range today, right?" Jack asked.

"Joy," Daniel said, pulling a face. He got up, taking the change to a less personal topic as a signal he and Jack both had to get on with their day. He went into the tent to roll the sleeping bags and pack their gear while Jack took care of the trash and the spot where they'd had their fire. They worked together on the tent, then transported everything back to the humvee for the drive back to base.

He found he was enjoying Jack's good mood and frequent smiling glances sent his way. He was in better spirits than at any time since he came through the quantum mirror. In fact, he felt almost like himself again, looking about him in curiosity as they drove.

"The SGC has several off-world scientific research bases, but nothing on this scale," he said. "With the small-scale industrial infrastructure and this agricultural base, it was designed from the beginning to be self-sustaining, right?"

"With oil and mineral deposits of this magnitude to exploit, the Joint Chiefs thought the Beta Site was the perfect 'off the grid' base for military, medical and scientific research and development. Long-term, they were looking to construct a secure weapons proving ground." Jack looked across to see how Daniel was taking this. "Your SGC and Joint Chiefs had the self-same priorities."

"It's sophistry on my part to think the SGC's mandate more palatable because we were overtly procuring weapons and technology to defend against the Goa'uld. Of course any military advantage would ultimately be applied in traditional conflicts. It was easier for me to ignore that agenda when the President extended our mandate to assessing the cultural and scientific value of each mission."

"I think I've been more than cooperative in that direction myself," Jack said.

"I'm not criticising," Daniel said. "Quite the opposite, in fact. I appreciate the lengths you're going to in order to gain access to the Abydos cartouche and redirect efforts here into peaceful exploration and trade relations."

"But?" Jack prompted.

"You offered me SG-1 to back me up on missions and Colonel Makepeace has also expressed willingness to continue our working relationship."

"Still waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"We're engaged on what is essentially a do-over utilising the benefit of hindsight to direct trade negotiations. It's been very easy for Makepeace and the marines to listen to me and take my advice when I've literally been there, done that. Some of the gate addresses I've provided haven't been explored by any SG team. I have no more idea what to expect on those worlds than anyone else. The colonel tells me he respects my expertise but that's easy to say when he's never seen it tested. If he reads a situation one way, I read it another, I don't know how much confidence I have he'll follow my lead. I don't doubt his professionalism, but he's not you, Jack. There's a, a lack of imagination."

"If I gave you carte blanche?"

"I would reorganise the SG teams to reflect different specialisations, as the SGC did. SG-1 is the front line team with a remit of scientific and cultural exploration, making first contact. Have however many combat teams you feel necessary. Then set up new specialist teams for medical, survey, engineering, diplomatic missions."

"Personnel?"

"For SG-1? That would be me and, much as it pains me to admit it, Dr. McKay. We would need the same level of scientific and technical support Sam provided in my reality and, well, for all kinds of reasons, that is not an option here. We'd also need military personnel to complete the team. Anyone who's flexible, resourceful and has some imagination. Officers like you, in other words."

"Flattery will get you anywhere."

"Will it get me SG-1?"

"Makepeace and the other team leaders will pitch a fit."

"They'll survive. And the odds for the rest of us go up if you reorganise and expand your SG teams into specialisations along the lines I've suggested. Designate Makepeace SG-2, Kawalsky SG-3 and Ferretti SG-4 if they need to maintain their pecking order in the combat teams."

"You going to be stubborn about the SG-1 thing? SG-5 just not have the same ring to it?"

"Peaceful exploration and first contact are now the key endeavours for the survival of Genesis, not combat. That should be reflected in the team designations."

"That all sounds so plausible I can't imagine why I have such a strong mental image of a terrier growling over a bone."

Maybe.

"I thought you were getting along okay with Makepeace," Jack said. "You know if I institute these changes, I'll have to offer him the choice of leading SG-1 or a combat team."

"I guess that's fair," Daniel said. "I have faith in his professionalism. If the mandate of SG-1 is changed from combat to exploration and first contact I think Makepeace could make the necessary shift in thinking. Just give us a fourth who's a little less conventional and rule bound, and we'll make it work."

"You always have to push," Jack said. "I know this about you. Why did I take you to bed when it was only going to make you push me that much harder?"

"I don't know," Daniel said, offering up a faint smile. "And I'm not done yet. We also need to consider finding personnel with aptitude for languages, interest in history or the social sciences, to train with Catherine and me as mission specialists for their teams. Rank doesn't matter so much as a curiosity about people, a willingness to learn and the confidence to speak to cultural issues and perspectives on missions."

"Anything else I can help you with?" Jack asked politely.

"Not until we're naked in bed," Daniel said, amazing himself with his boldness.

Jack's delighted answering grin lit his whole face with amused anticipation. It was only when they drove through the security checkpoint onto base the cool, distancing mask of the general slid firmly into place.

Daniel wasn't threatened. He had duties and obligations of his own, expectations to fulfil, and he knew the warm feeling Jack hid behind his public demeanour. He hopped out of the humvee feeling, if not optimistic, then purposeful. He had briefings to give and attend, missions to prep, reports to write, fitness tests and shooting practice with Colonel Makepeace, and he would see Jack tonight.

He was not the man to give up. If he wasn't home, he was at least safe. If he didn't have the comfort of the familiar, his regrets were tinged with hope. Some. Hope that his friends, his world was intact. That his loss had made a difference there, as his presence made a difference here.

No, not optimistic, but not deadened to this reality either. One life was touching his, one man was real to him. Forcing him to look forward, a little, as well as looking back.


	7. Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Genesis  
> Author: Biblio  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Jack and Daniel   
> Category: Alternate Reality. Angst. Drama. Hurt/Comfort.   
> Date: April 2010.  
> Season/Spoilers: Season 1. An alternate reality springs from the events of "There But For The Grace Of God."  
> Synopsis: At the end of everything, Daniel Jackson provokes unexpected feelings from General Jack O'Neill and changes both their lives forever.

After Daniel's mission briefing in the SG-1 team house, Makepeace sent his men on ahead to the humvees waiting to take them to the combat training camp in the outer edges of the forest.

"You can tell me it's none of my business," Makepeace said, standing in Daniel's way. "But after you spent the night off-base with him, I have to ask about you and the general."

"We're friends," Daniel said.

"I'm not asking what your relationship is, Dr. Jackson," Makepeace said. "I just want to know you're okay with it."

Surprised by the man yet again, Daniel flushed. "I'm okay."

"What I said to you, what I wanted, that stays between us?"

"You can trust me on that. And…I won't let it affect our working relationship."

"Nor will I. That's all I wanted to hear." Makepeace nodded briskly and went out the door without a backwards glance.

Daniel followed, wondering why he had so much difficulty taking Makepeace at face value. It was a personal issue, not important. Time he put it out of mind.

The paces Makepeace put him through helped clear his mind of any thought but survival. The first hour at the shooting range was straightforward enough. Daniel was a capable shot with his sidearm or MP5, he didn't throw a grenade like a girl, and he gave ample evidence of this. Lulled into a false sense of security by this minor triumph, he was subsequently dragged the length, depth, height and breadth of an assault course described as 'challenging' by the marines, who shot at him from time to time. His fitness was judged adequate, his steadiness under fire damned with faint praise, then he was allowed to wheeze over mac-and-cheese. Then the marines took it in turns to try to kill him with knives, fists, feet and good natured banter. His hand-to-hand skills were judged negligible, but they liked the way he didn't stay down when they put him down. Daniel liked when they stopped.

"You'll be carrying an MP5 on future missions," Makepeace decided. "After that display, I want to ensure you have sufficient firepower to drop a hostile in his tracks as far away from you as possible. Any closer, your own incompetence will kill you and maybe your teammates. You'll need extensive hand-to-hand training. Or a full-time bodyguard."

Beyond the capacity for protest, dignified retaliation, movement or even speech, Daniel decided he could dislike Makepeace just fine. Guilt-free in fact. He disliked him throughout the journey back to base and disliked him that bit more when he was delivered dazed, dirty and dishevelled to the Command Post for the Cimmeria mission briefing. Makepeace only added to his dislike by appearing amused by it.

"You look like five klicks of bad road," Jack said when Daniel limped sullenly into the briefing room.

"I feel like ten," Daniel said, scowling at the author of his misfortune.

"Dr. Jackson acquitted himself adequately," Makepeace said.

"I can shoot straight and leap small distances in a single bound," Daniel said.

"With some intensive defensive training, I'm confident he'll be able to function well with my team in combat situations," Makepeace said.

"I don't think we'll be testing Dr. Jackson's combat prowess in Cimmeria any time soon," Paul Davis said, looking up from his laptop in dismay. "Take a look at the video feed." He queued the MALP's telemetry on the large display screens, revealing a bank of snow around the Stargate deep enough to bury the DHD and strong winds scouring hail across the camera lens.

"The mission to Cartago?" Makepeace said quickly.

"Already assigned to Major Ferretti's team," Jack said. "And Major Kawalsky has the Chulak insertion covered."

Makepeace looked at the raging blizzard on Cimmeria. Then he looked at Daniel. "You willing to risk it?" he asked.

"It's just snow," Daniel said, manning up.

"It's out of the question," Jack said.

"I'm not even sure we'll get the MALP back at this point," Paul said. "If we dial the gate before the MALP gets clear of it, the incoming wormhole will vaporise it. I'm sorry, Colonel, Doctor, but we can't afford to lose that MALP."

"Might want to try sending through something we can afford to lose next time. Like a camera on a stick," Makepeace said sarcastically.

"Let me ask you a question, Colonel," Jack said while Paul contacted the Stargate operations room and asked them to try to get the MALP clear of the gate while the wormhole was still active. "I'm considering reorganisation and expansion of the SG teams. As senior field leader, you'll have your pick of assignments. If I was to offer you the choice between leading a combat unit or a small scientific team, which do you think you'd go for?"

Daniel thought Jack didn't waste much time.

"Combat unit," Makepeace said without hesitation. "It speaks to my strengths and it's where my experience best serves this command."

"You have no reservations making that choice?" Jack asked.

"None."

"If I was to increase the number of combat teams from three to four, who would you recommend as new team leader?"

"Major Reynolds," Makepeace said. "Only because I feel Major Castleman has the greater experience co-ordinating the wider base defence and security forces."

"Major Davis," Jack said. "Any names jump to mind if I ask you to find me an officer with imagination, flexibility and resilience to lead a scientific exploration team composed of Dr. Jackson and Dr. McKay?"

Daniel met the interested gazes of Paul and Makepeace with what he hoped came off as calm consideration of the matter at hand rather than slight shock at Jack's singularly driven brand of single-mindedness. Shock, and a certain satisfaction.

"One of our chopper jocks is in MENSA," Paul said without hesitation. "Some kind of math whizz with such a marked tendency to march to the beat of a different drum, he's sought out increasingly remote postings. I've taken note only because…er…" He broke off, looking embarrassed.

"Because?" Jack prompted.

"No disrespect intended, General O'Neill," Paul said apologetically. "Because with his record, and his exploits in combat, he reminds me of you."

Jack glanced across to make eye contact with Daniel for a swift, speculative second. "Do I know this guy?"

"Captain John Sheppard," Paul said. "No, I don't believe you know him, Sir. He was never attached to the SGA, but recruited specifically to the Beta Site project, as was Dr. McKay."

"Set up a meeting with Dr. Jackson, Dr. McKay, Captain Sheppard and myself, ASAP," Jack ordered. "See if you can find me another overachiever for a fourth. Anyone who'd be a good fit for a team with a mandate for scientific and cultural exploration and first contact. Rank of less concern than aptitude."

"If I'm recruiting Sheppard and other personnel for two new teams, General, can I confirm the designations?" Paul said. "I presume Major Reynolds will lead SG-4, Captain Sheppard SG-5?"

"If Captain Sheppard volunteers, he'll be leading SG-1," Jack said.

"General!" Makepeace protested, snapping bolt upright in his chair.

"Colonel," Jack responded coolly. "You've already determined where you can best serve this command. Now I'm acting on that determination. You'll lead the SG-2 marines, Kawalsky will lead SG-3, Ferretti SG-4 and Reynolds SG-5.  Those teams will specialise in combat, covert operations, intelligence gathering and reconnaissance, search and rescue, with mission destinations harvested from the tracking device on the Chulak Stargate."

Makepeace seethed at the implicit slight but remained silent, very aware Jack had fed him just enough rope to unknowingly hang himself.

 "I also want to establish a number of other specialist and support SG teams," Jack said, not even glancing in Daniel's direction. "A survey science team designated SG-6, a diplomatic team SG-7, a combat engineering team SG-8, a medical team SG-9. I want experienced field leaders, then select for aptitude over rank for the other team members. Consult Dr. Carter on SG-6, Major Kovacek on SG-7, Colonel Edwards on SG-8 and Dr. Fraiser on SG-9 for team size and composition."

"Yes, Sir," Paul acknowledged, typing furiously. "Team leaders to hold the rank of captain and above?"

"Promote if necessary," Jack decided. "God knows the one commodity we're not short of around here is military personnel. I have no objection to appointing civilian specialists where needed. Then work with Dr. Langford and Dr. Jackson to identify those with linguistic skills and institute an intensive training programme. We need at least one member of each SG team fluent in Goa'uld. We also need to identify historians or social scientists who can give SG team members a thorough grounding in ancient history and culture 101. Dr. Jackson, you'll work with Dr. Langford to design a suitable programme?"

"Happy to," Daniel said, filled with admiration at Jack's even-handed decisiveness.

"I have a few immediate suggestions for personnel," Paul said. "Lieutenant Graham Simmons graduated the Air Force Academy with honours in geospatial science and would make an excellent addition to the SG-6 survey and science team along with Captain Carl Connor, who majored in meteorology and has a masters in mineralogy. I know you'll want Dr. Carter's input on this, but my recommendation would be to have Dr. Lee join SG-6 because of his background in applied rather than theoretical science."

"Noted," Jack said. "I like Hank Boyd for SG-6 team leader."

"Yes, Sir," Paul said. "I would also recommend Lieutenant Claire Tobias for SG-8. She's a talented engineer. In order to fill the other SG team positions, I'm going to have to trawl personnel records for college degrees, academy majors and graduate studies. It could take some time."

"Consider that fourth for SG-1 a priority."

"If I might make a suggestion, General?" Makepeace said. "I think you've already found SG-1's fourth in Sheppard. My recommendation for team leader is your squadron leader Major Cameron Mitchell."

Daniel knew he'd been right to count on Makepeace's professionalism. He might not be the perfect fit for SG-1, but he was to be counted on.

"Mitchell has an exemplary record and outstanding leadership qualities," Paul said. 

"I can't afford to lose too many pilots," Jack said, frowning.

"Captain Lorne is an equally accomplished pilot and more than capable of leading the squadron," Paul said. "And, if we're casting a wider net than the officer pool, we have enlisted personnel with flight experience who would probably kill for the chance to gain field promotion and join the squadron. I think we've recognised we need to start training additional pilots, grooming new officers and getting to grips with entirely new areas of expertise like archaeology. I'm seeing realisation from the senior staff, department leaders, even the families, that we can't afford to wait around. No one is coming to our rescue. No one will be handing us resources, technology, answers. This is it. We're going to have to work for everything we want. General, I think the opportunities for advancement in this reorganisation could be a real boost to morale. For military as well as civilian personnel."

Daniel was certainly feeling no pain. If he couldn't have his reality, his friends, his SG-1, then to have a team that was new to him, that was part of his future and not his past, was his only alternative. He knew Jack would not have taken this step without believing it to be right for Genesis, but Daniel was so grateful to him. So grateful.

"I have to concur," Makepeace said. "Personally, while I'm loathe to see the original SG teams effectively demoted by a new agenda, I can see the sense in and give my support to the expansion of our gate operations. I see a logical division of those operations into exploration and first contact, combat and reconnaissance, resource discovery, logistics and support, and, here on base, defence and security, research and development, health care. That establishes some much needed clarity in the new Genesis command structure as well as distinct career paths for the personnel. Better by far for this command to have a goal and to involve the entire base in progress towards achieving that goal than to tread water and dwell on our losses."

"Would you like me to invite Major Mitchell and Captain Sheppard to your meeting with Doctors Jackson and McKay?" Paul asked Jack.

"I'd like to at least meet them," Daniel said. "Find out if they're interested in joining the team, see if we can all work together."

"You mean follow your orders," Jack said dryly.

Daniel shrugged.

"There's no doubt they'll join SG-1," Makepeace said. "No sane officer is going to turn down the premier SG team handed to him on a plate."

"These aren't sane times, Colonel," Paul said, reading something on his laptop. "Major Mitchell's wife Amy is safe here on base, but he lost parents he was close to in the attack on Earth. Captain Sheppard lost his father, a sibling, and also his estranged wife when Washington was destroyed. Granted, their losses are no greater than those endured by other personnel, but I have to say for the record I'm concerned we're overlooking the fact that in normal circumstances, our entire complement would be on compassionate leave. I recognise we're in a state of emergency, and I believe the base personnel recognise it too and are doing their utmost to rise to the challenge, but gratitude for survival and incomprehension at the enormity of our losses only buys this command so much time. We have yet to see real reaction set in."

"All the more reason to focus on positive action," Makepeace said.

"I agree with you," Paul said. "I just don't think our contingency planning and grief counselling adequately cover surviving the apocalypse. Our people require some latitude and some time if their actions, their decisions, are affected by the grief and the guilt we all feel."

"I agree we can't change the past, can't undo the destruction or the damage," Daniel said. "But we can tell people about the progress we're making to build them a more secure and comfortable life. A future. We can advertise hope. We can make good on the promise to involve them in planning and decision making. We can prepare ourselves for the inevitable calls for change and freedom, for families to move off base, out of our control and even beyond our reach, to build their own lives and communities. We can fulfil our obligations to the constitution by laying the groundwork for a fair, equitable society and economy that don't repeat the mistakes of the past."

"In time," Jack said. "For now, security and survival have to be our primary concerns. The expansion of our gate operations and the reorganisation of base personnel into these new divisions are positive steps. Major, put out a public call for volunteers for all these programmes I've detailed and circulate a bulletin on what we've achieved in our alliance with the People of Light. We're expecting our first shipments of fresh food, grain and cloth within the week. That ought to allay fears about our supply situation."

"Yes, Sir."

 "I want to brief Majors Kawalsky, Ferretti, Reynolds and Boyd ASAP on the SG team expansion. Also, set up my meeting with Mitchell, Sheppard, Dr. McKay and Dr. Jackson early in the am tomorrow. Thank you, gentlemen. You're dismissed." Jack stood, Paul and Makepeace respectfully following suit while their CO left the briefing room.

Pummelled inside and out, Daniel got up slowly, stiffly and swearing.

"We went easy on him," Makepeace said to Davis, enjoying Daniel's discomfort.

"You did not!"

Makepeace caught Daniel's arm before he could limp away. "We have you to thank for these changes?"

"Jack is his own man," Daniel said.

"He's a man over whom you exercise inordinate influence," Makepeace said. "That gives you power in this command. Don't forget the responsibility that goes along with it."

"I have faith Jack will act in our best interests," Daniel said.

Makepeace eyed Daniel searchingly for long seconds before sensing he wasn't just feeding him a line. He meant this. "I hope you do the same," Makepeace said, then left the room.

"I would have liked that position on SG-1," Paul said with a regretful smile. "But my academy major was management and my graduate study leadership. I don't have the necessary field experience to lead an SG team. I don't really have the staff experience to be Genesis XO, but someone had to step up after Colonel Hammond's death and the general decided that someone was me."

"It was a good decision," Daniel said warmly. "You've certainly impressed me."

Paul shrugged lightly. "General O'Neill is promoting me to Lieutenant Colonel."

"You deserve it."

"It's a pragmatic decision, Daniel. It heads off unnecessary and tedious territorial tussling with the SG team leaders and department heads. I'm grateful for advancement and I will do the best job I can, but no one is more aware than I am that I'm not George Hammond."

"No one is. But knowing George Hammond as we do, can you honestly tell me he would have stepped through that Stargate, leaving his family, his granddaughters, behind to die?"

"Not in a million years," Paul said. "But I can't help thinking that with my choice of major, my pursuit of staff positions, I didn't choose the fast track to promotion. That comes with field experience. I guess a lot of our senior officers gained at least one promotion when a superior died in action. I'm really no different than them. It just doesn't sit well with me. I don't feel that I've earned it, you know?"

"I know. I do. But you're still better off than me," Daniel said. "Everything I worked for, everything I earned, was in another reality. I didn't open the Stargate, I didn't excavate the Abydos cartouche here. People that SG-1 saved in my reality went without our help, died here. I didn't make that difference."

"You make a difference to the people on this base," Paul said. "And you have the general's confidence, you have that influence with him, because of it."

"Well, I seem to have as much difficulty accepting that as you do."

"Touché."

"I think Jack made the right call in expanding gate operations."

"I agree. I also think Colonel Makepeace made the right call recommending Major Mitchell for SG-1 team leader. I've met with him a few times and found him very engaged, very committed. Captain Sheppard is a more laidback and laconic personality, but I think he'll mesh well with you, Dr. McKay and Mitchell."

"I'm hoping so. I really want to get out there exploring again. It's the way I can best serve Genesis." And himself.

"I don't think anyone is arguing that."

"Catherine might," Daniel said ruefully. "I'd better go talk to her about all the extra work I've landed her with."

"Only so you can avoid having to talk to me about all the extra work you've landed me with."

"You appear to thrive on it, so I'm not wasting any sympathy on you."

Daniel went back to his quarters to clean up before walking to the lab. Catherine was in her office, poring over their tiny horde of Minoan textbooks, many of them older than Daniel. The book on Minoan and Mycenaean art Catherine held in her hands was in fact a couple of decades older than her.

"Higgins?" Daniel said, hopping up onto her lab bench, legs swinging.

Catherine nodded enthusiastically. "I'm preparing for my visit to the Land of Light. I have so many questions!"

"You have to ask about the bull symbolism," Daniel said.

"I plan to. Did you know Leedora was an accomplished bull jumper in her youth?"

"It certainly fits her personality. She's living proof the Minoans embraced gender equality millennia before women fought overtly for their rights in western civilisation."

"It's an issue close to my heart," Catherine said. "I find it amazing, not to say ironic, that Leedora, Kitane and the others had an easier path and open acceptance in a culture four thousand years older than ours, while I had to fight the men in uniform, the men in suits, the men in the Oval Office, my entire life."

"Then you should be doubly proud of succeeding despite their doubts."

"I would have traded it all for a life with Ernest." Catherine's brave face trembled. "I had Sam dial the coordinates you gave me. We couldn't establish a lock. The gate is gone. Ernest is gone." Tears came to her eyes, fogging her reading glasses. She pulled them off impatiently, her hands stiff and uncoordinated.

Daniel jumped down and went over to Catherine, taking her hands in his. "I'm so sorry," he said.

"I tell myself at least his suffering is over," Catherine said, her head bowed. "But to know he lived and died alone! All these years!"

 "You were with him, Catherine," Daniel said, putting comforting arms around her. "With him all these years. Ernest told me you found him long ago. You were his constant companion, his solace and inspiration. In his mind, you had a wonderful life together."

Catherine clung to Daniel, sobbing bitterly into his chest. He could only empathise with her grief for lost love, lost hope. She wept until she lost patience with herself and pulled away from him, too strong and focused a character to wallow in self-pity, and too quick to mistake sorrow for that indulgence. She was much like Daniel in that regard.

"I haven't seen much of you this past week," she said, dashing away the evidence of her tears and sitting up very straight.

"That's not going to change any time soon," Daniel said. "Jack has decided to extend the number of SG teams and expand gate operations with a new mandate for exploration, first contact and resource discovery. We're going to be very busy, Catherine. In recognition that ancient history is now vital current intelligence, Jack has asked us to design a training programme for linguistics, history and anthropology, initially focused on the Goa'uld."

"My fascination with the Stargate led me to specialise in Egyptology, so the history and cultural aspects of the programme shouldn't be a problem for me," Catherine said. "I can read and translate Egyptian hieroglyphs, if not quite to the standard you've set, but you're the only one who can speak the language."

"I know. Jack has designated a new SG-1 team, composed of Rodney McKay, Major Mitchell, Captain Sheppard and me. Our mandate is cultural and scientific exploration, and peaceful first contact with ancient and alien cultures. All the team members will have commitments outside of the scheduled mission programme. Mitchell and Sheppard will be training new pilots, McKay is involved in a number of key science projects, and I'll be working with you on this programme."

"You're taking on a lot of responsibility, Daniel," Catherine said.

"I need it," Daniel said simply. "And, forgive me if this sounds presumptuous, but I think you need it too. You've been the driving force of the Stargate programme for so long, this relegation to scholarly retirement has to be frustrating."

Catherine snorted. "Scholarly retirement? Is that how you see it?"

"I care about you, Catherine. Maybe my perception is off because I feel I opened the gate to Genesis and effectively closed it on you."

Catherine eyed him searchingly. "Your perception isn't off. This lab is the pasture I've been put out to graze in. In the past, I've had my youth and gender thrown at me, now it's my age and frailty. The one adversary I can't beat, the one battle I can't win. Jack will do anything I ask except the one thing I want. He won't let me travel through the Stargate I opened for him. I have to wait for others to clear the way, wait until the adventure is over and the brave new worlds rendered as dull and guarded as this one. I'm not happy about it and I'm powerless to change it."

"I can't say anything that isn't patronising and completely inadequate," Daniel said.

"Don't apologise to me," Catherine said. "You value my expertise above my gender, age or infirmity. You treat me as your equal, you look for ways to include me in your explorations, your adventures, because it doesn't occur to you to do less. I've lived long enough to recognise and value an honourable compromise, and this training programme is just that for me. A liveable compromise. It's important, it's needed, it's at the heart of the Stargate programme. I may not be the first to step through the gate, I may not be starting the journey, but I can help you finish it. You can't do all of this alone. You need me."

"I'm relying on you."

Catherine found her smile again. She started to say something, but was distracted when the lab entry door opened to admit two tall, dark-haired, handsome men in flight suits. She and Daniel went out into the hallway to meet them.

"Major Cameron Mitchell," the blue-eyed man said, shaking hands with Daniel and Catherine.

"Captain John Sheppard," the green-eyed man said, offering his hand.

"I'm Dr. Catherine Langford, and this is Dr. Daniel Jackson."

"It's you we came to see, Dr. Jackson," Mitchell said, his expression friendly and open. "Paul Davis tells us we have you to thank for a plum assignment."

"It's General O'Neill's assignment, and your inclusion is on the recommendation of Major Davis and Colonel Makepeace," Daniel said as he led them through to sit at the library table in the main lab. Catherine was curious enough to tag along.

"That's not how Major Davis tells it," Mitchell said. "According to the XO, you requested specific aptitudes in personnel for your SG-1 frontline team and we fit the brief."

"Frankly, I'm far from being the only one surprised you want what I've apparently got," Sheppard said.

"You're a good pilot," Mitchell said.

"Not a requirement for the position on SG-1," Sheppard said.

"It could be," Daniel said. "We do possess a couple of helicopters with folding rotor blades small enough to fit through the Stargate, right? I've no idea how much fuel they carry, but surely they could extend the range of our explorations to at least that of a UAV."

"That's a good point," Mitchell said. "The Comanches are two-men reconnaissance helos with a range of 262 nautical miles, or 485 kilometres. It took some fancy engineering to redesign the rotor housing so the blades could be manually retracted for deployment through the Stargate."

"Thank you," Rodney McKay said, appearing from nowhere.

"That was you?" Daniel said, surprised.

"Of course it was me."

"You're an astrophysicist."

"One of the leading minds of our generation. I know. I'm also a brilliant engineer," McKay said.

"And modest with it," Sheppard said.

"With that in mind, Jackson, what possessed you to shanghai me for your Mickey Mouse club?" McKay demanded.

"You're the best person for the job," Daniel said.

"That's not in question. What is in question is your arrogant presumption that, one, the research here will progress without my expertise and input, and, two, I have the time or the remotest inclination to go digging around in the dirt in the feeble hope of scratching up insignificant artefacts."

"I arrogantly presumed that when SG-1's missions uncovered amazingly advanced alien technology, your natural inclination would be to get your greedy hands on it first."

Head tilted appraisingly, McKay conceded the point with minimal reluctance and pulled up a chair.

"All the members of SG-1 have significant obligations on base," Daniel said. "Major Mitchell and Captain Sheppard have replacement pilots to train, Dr. Langford and I have a linguistics and anthropological education programme to design, you have your research. I imagine we'll strike the necessary sustainable balance with off-world exploration."

"You should also bear in mind SG-1 will be the premier team," Sheppard said. "From what the XO tells us, the entire base is going to be reorganised into new divisions to support Stargate operations. You want to be out there through the gate with the frontline team, or stuck here in the lab waiting on Dr. Lee or Jeannie?"

"Jeannie?" McKay said, startled in a way that was not flattering to his little sister.

"Mrs. Miller would be my second choice," Daniel said innocently. "If you're really not interested in the position."

"I never said I wasn't interested in being on the team," McKay said, reversing his position in style. "I merely, and rightly, objected to the cavalier manner in which I was co-opted."

"Happens to me all the time," Sheppard said. "It's called chain of command."

"Speaking of which, Major Mitchell is SG-1 team leader," Daniel said, directing his comments rather pointedly at McKay. "And Captain Sheppard is second-in-command. We may be the scientific experts, but they're responsible for our safety and we're obliged to follow their orders in that regard."

McKay found this funny. "You think archaeology is a science?"

"Archaeology discovered and opened the Stargate," Catherine said. "Archaeology uncovered the Abydos cartouche and the network of gate addresses. Archaeology began all of these research projects you believe so imperative. Archaeology and the scratching up of insignificant artefacts give us the basis to find the common ground upon which to build alliances and secure the goods and trade this community will need to survive. And it is archaeology that will guide you to the alien technology and scientific advancements you covet. You pride yourself on your intellect and your achievements, but are you smart enough to recognise in Daniel a man who is at least your equal?"

"That's a rhetorical question, right?" McKay said.

Daniel hoped so, yes. He was not equipped for this kind of thing.

"We're saddled with a pair of geniuses," Sheppard said. "We got that."

"Now we have the introductions out of the way, can we focus on SG-1's operational parameters?" Mitchell said.

"We do not have introductions out of the way," McKay said. "You both know my scientific credentials. Jackson is fluent in twenty-three languages including Goa'uld, and has doctorates in archaeology, philology and linguistics. Exactly what qualities do you two flyboys bring to our team?"

"Resourcefulness," Mitchell said.

"Flexibility," Sheppard said.

"Imagination," Mitchell said.

"Ability to think outside the box," Sheppard said.

"I majored in aeronautics, my graduate study was in military strategy, I can fly any kind of aircraft and I'm a history buff," Mitchell said.

"I majored in math, my graduate study was in advanced probability and statistics, I can fly anything he can, and I've been playing golf since I was six," Sheppard said.

"Math is a core component of engineering and linguistics, so at least the entire team is numerate," McKay said. "That's more than I can say for Bill Lee."

"Can we get back to establishing operational parameters?" Mitchell asked.

"Our missions should be to previously unexplored worlds," Daniel said. "The team can call on my experience in gate travel and first contact as well as our varying fields of expertise. The other SG teams should have the opportunity to gain operational experience from repeating missions previously undertaken in my reality."

"How many unexplored destinations are we looking at?" Mitchell asked.

"Until we can access the Abydos cartouche, we're restricted to about fifty gate addresses," Daniel said. "A random selection of sequences of symbols I memorised while studying and testing each panel of the Abydos cartouche. None of which worked for me, even though the Abydos Stargate, in common with every other DHD-controlled gate in the network, should have compensated automatically for stellar drift. With what both Sam Carters and McKay here have learned about how the Stargates and the DHD function in the network, my current thinking is that Ra disabled the Abydos gate from dialling out as a security measure to prevent other Goa'uld accessing the naquadah supply on which his power was built."

"The Abydos gate dialled Earth," Mitchell said.

"A million years into the sky, the Earth Stargate lay sealed and buried for all time," Daniel quoted obligingly. "The coordinates erased from the Goa'uld racial memory. Ra believed that sufficient security measure."

"That's not an unreasonable assumption," Sheppard said.

"It's a huge assumption!" McKay argued.

"Easily proved or disproved when we begin dialling those addresses on the Genesis gate," Daniel said. "The point I'm trying to make is that my selection of gate addresses was from the entirety of the Abydos cartouche, whereas Captain Carter's dialling programme was crunching those addresses in strict sequence from the first address on the first panel. I have no idea what we'll encounter when we gate through to those destinations. I would also remind you that while the Goa'uld annexed the gate network for their own ends, they did not build the Stargates and scavenged much of their advanced technology from other races."

"That, more than anything, gives me hope we may actually find something useful out there," McKay said.

"No point climbing up that hill when you've already seen what's on the other side," Sheppard said easily.

"We all appreciate the risks of gating out into the great unknown, Jackson, and I think it's what we all signed up for in our own way. I'm happy to make that proposal to General O'Neill," Mitchell said. "Our meeting is scheduled for 07:30."

"So, gentlemen," Catherine said. "It's decided? You're a team?"

"Damn straight, ma'am," Mitchell said. "This is one barbecue I don't intend to miss."

"That's, uh, that's something you need to watch out for in first contact situations," Daniel said. "Avoid parochial cultural references wherever possible."

"Those ancient and alien people we'll encounter through the Stargate speak English, Major," Sheppard said. "Not American."

"Why is that, Jackson?" Mitchell asked. "Why does everyone in the universe appear to speak English? It's not only relatively modern, it's an amalgam of other languages."

"Ra was the Supreme System Lord, the first of the Goa'uld to enslave a human host and the one responsible for introducing ancient Egyptian language and culture to Earth. Ra refused to speak or to have any other language spoken than Goa'uld, but he was able to read my archaeology texts. Apophis and the Jaffa were fluent in both Goa'uld and English, while the various human cultures we encountered spoke English blended with derivations of other languages including Latin and ancient Greek. My theory is that English predates the Goa'uld civilisation, and its prevalence associates it with the Stargate builders I believe to be one of the four alien races of the ancient alliance. It appears to be a near universally spoken lingua franca, but never written. Even advanced human cultures like the Tollan separated spoken English from their formal written language. I hope some day to find out why."

"I hope you're alone in that hope," McKay said, putting his particular spin on team spirit. "The only language I'm interested in right now is Goa'uld."

"Ditto for Sheppard and me," Mitchell said. "If the general signs off on formation of SG-1 tomorrow, I'd like to start language lessons right away. And you two will be going back to school with us. If we are intending to use the Comanches off-world, you'll have to be trained to read the instrumentation and function as second chair."

"I rebuilt the thing," McKay said. "How much more familiarity do I need?"

"You have the technical specs down cold, McKay," Mitchell said. "It's your ability to function effectively as Sheppard's second we need to work on."

"Wait a second. Why do I get Sheppard?" McKay asked.

"That's what I'd like to know," Sheppard said.

"I'm game," Daniel said. "With one or two minor provisos. The people sitting in the cockpits have twenty/twenty vision and I won't be able to see the back of your head, let alone read instrument panels, without my glasses. Also, I should mention I have a, let's call it a minor problem with heights."

Catherine kissed Daniel fondly on the cheek, then walked away laughing.

Daniel blinked after her, wondering where that had come from, then shook himself. "Forgive the layman's question, but isn't the instrumentation calibrated to function in Earth's atmosphere?" he asked. "Or should I say magnetosphere? I mean, I presume you can fly the helicopters here because this plant is dipole like Earth and we have GPS. Without GPS to rely on off-world, and with the possibility of multipole planets, how do we navigate?"

"The instrumentation is computer controlled," McKay said, apparently deciding Daniel wasn't quite as dumb as he looked. "I can write a macro to recalibrate based on MALP telemetry and sensor readings taken on each planet we plan to use the Comanches, making the location of the Stargate the specific reference datum from which heading and distance are calculated."

"I wonder why we never tried this in my reality," Daniel said. "The SGC gateroom doesn't have the capacity to take a helicopter, but a humvee would fit through the gate. It's an all-terrain vehicle with a range of over 300 miles. You'd just need a ramp down from the off-world gate. Why are we walking everywhere?"

"We don't plan to walk anywhere," McKay said. "You're a permanent resident in this reality, remember? We do things differently here. I'm part of the Stargate programme, for example. We're not solely reliant on Samantha Carter's guesswork and risk taking."

"Are we in the programme in your reality?" Mitchell asked, gesturing from himself to Sheppard.

"Sorry, no," Daniel said. "Our programme played out very differently than this. Our alpha site is in a different location than your beta site, and we never established a base of this size or with this purpose. Dr. McKay, Mrs. Miller, Dr. Lee, Major Reynolds -- none of them are part of the Stargate programme I know. Catherine is retired, the first prime of Apophis is a member of SG-1, Sam Carter is an Air Force captain, Jack O'Neill is a colonel, George Hammond is a general, Paul Davis is with the Pentagon and Colonel Makepeace is a jerk."

"Boggles the mind, don't it?" Mitchell said. "I wonder if there's some crazy loser reality where I didn't ask Amy Vandenberg to the senior prom?"

"I want to know if there's another dimension where I finally got my golf handicap below 6," Sheppard said.

"I hope your message got through," McKay said to Daniel. "That they stopped the attack on Earth and every one of those people is alive."

"I hope so too," Daniel said, blinking at this uncharacteristic generosity.

"My alternate should have a shot with Sam too," McKay added.

 

 

Daniel was in bed with an assortment of aches and pains, and a little light reading in the form of the training manual for the RAH-66 Comanche helicopter, when there was a knock at his door. He opened it to find Jack pale, tired, and clenched like a fist.

"Can I come in?" Jack asked.

Daniel stood aside wordlessly and let Jack into his room. He stood against the wall for a minute or so watching Jack's restless pacing before finding the nerve to step into his path and take hold of him. Jack jerked in his arms, as if he meant to pull away or shove Daniel away, then his arms tightened convulsively and he buried his face against Daniel's hair.

Daniel held Jack tightly, offering what comfort and understanding he could, glad to do this small thing for him. Glad Jack allowed it. Daniel stood patiently, rubbing tension from Jack's back and shoulders until at last Jack relaxed against him with a sigh of relief. Gentle kisses grazed Daniel's neck and shoulder, then Jack's hands slid down to cup him intimately close.

"I like you in these," Jack said, fingering the striped blue cotton over Daniel's rump. "You were in bed?"

"I wasn't sure I'd see you tonight. If you'd have the time, or want to."

"Can I get in there with you?" Jack asked.

Without breaking Jack's hold on him, or his on Jack, Daniel leaned back a little. He smiled at Jack, stroked his tired face and kissed him softly on the mouth. Jack breathed gratitude and pleasure into the kiss for long moments, then stripped to his shorts and slid under the blankets with Daniel. Jack sprawled on his back, his head resting on Daniel's shoulder, Daniel's arms over Jack's chest.

"Reynolds and Hank Boyd are thrilled about the SG team expansion, Kawalsky and Ferretti are as pissed as Makepeace," Jack said. This wasn't what he needed to say, wasn't important, but it was a place to start talking. "I'm sending Reynolds to Simarka to secure those wonder drugs for Fraiser. I figured Boyd and SG-6 could cut their teeth tackling the nanicite infestation on Argos."

"I met with Mitchell, Sheppard and McKay," Daniel said.

"You couldn't wait?"

Major Davis couldn't wait. "They found me."

"What impression did they make? You think this is doable?" Jack reached up to curl lazy fingers over Daniel's cradling arms.

"Our initial discussion about what the team is and how we'll function has already sparked fresh ideas, like extending the range of our explorations with the Comanche helos and humvees."

"Helos, huh?" Jack nudged the abandoned training manual with his knee, edging it off the bed. "Those boys teaching you the lingo?"

"They're planning to teach me more than the lingo. If you agree to their assignment to SG-1, I start Goa'uld language training with them, and they want to start intensive flight orientation with me and McKay so we can function as what they call second chair."

"Impressive."

Daniel nudged Jack with his knee. "Sarcastic."

"Not sarcasm. I'm just happy to hear you can play well with others."

"It was in doubt until now?" Daniel said in the same tone, responding to the teasing. "I'm hopeful," he added, more seriously. "Even McKay, brusque and blasé as he is, seems to be buying into the potential of the team."

"Good," Jack said. "I'm taking a risk here, and I want to see it pay off."

"Some of what we may learn…you have to be prepared for some missions to teach us more about our past than our future."

"With everything that's been lost, the races, religions, cultures, languages, history, the billions of people? You think I'm going to argue if we can keep some of that alive for the few of us who are left?"

Even if Jack was only saying it because it was what Daniel wanted from him, it was a good thought.  It was to be encouraged.  Daniel hugged Jack hard enough to make his ribs creak, ignoring a half-hearted, growling protest at his exuberance. Daniel dropped a light kiss into Jack's roan hair, then they settled to enjoy a close, maybe even a comfortable silence, soothing away the stresses of their day, communicating in easy touch and tangled fingers.

"You think we'll ever reach a point where we have more answers than questions?" Jack asked lazily, sounding as if he very much doubted it.

"I think I have so many questions, problems and regrets jostling for attention, I can't keep them all in mind," Daniel said. "It's too much to hold onto, to try to think and feel all at the same time. They're starting to cancel each other out, like a kind of emotional white noise. I'm finding more and more that I can only cope with what it's front of me. That's all I want to see, all I want to know."

"Good," Jack said, squeezing Daniel's fingers possessively between his. "I want you here with me, not off someplace else or with someone else in your head."

"Are you with me?" Daniel asked gently.

"I ended it with Sam," Jack said, his body tightening again against Daniel. "I had to."

"Can you talk about it?"

"What is there to say?"

"You can say you have feelings for Sam, you're sorry you weren't right for each other, you wished it had worked out the way you intended, you didn't want to hurt her or to be hurt."

Jack twisted around to look up wryly into Daniel's face. "You may be a romantic, Daniel Jackson, but you do not waste time indulging fond illusions."

"I learned that lesson early in life. When my parents died in front of me. When, after the funeral, my grandfather treated me to the best waffles I've ever tasted as if that could somehow blunt the pain when he wouldn't take me. I had family I believed loved me and would care for me, then I wound up alone in New York's foster care system. I learned not to waste too much time or energy thinking about myself. I learned it well."

"That's a tough break," Jack said, suddenly shifting position to pull Daniel onto his side facing him, then into his arms.

"I've been straight with you about how much I love my wife, how much I miss her," Daniel said. "Why should you be any less straight with me about your feelings for your wife or your feelings for Sam? Maybe I am romantic, but in my admittedly limited experience, this is the kind of thing friends help each other with."

Jack's eyes melted to tenderness. He closed the small gap between them to share a whispering kiss with Daniel. "You're a good man. You keep me honest. Keep me sharp." He kissed Daniel lingeringly, sweetly. "I crushed Sam," he said. "She won't forgive me."

Daniel didn't say he was sorry, or this was for the best, or any other platitude that was meant to comfort a thing like this. He only held Jack close to him, let him know in a dozen feeling ways he was with him.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" Jack asked.

"I'd like that," Daniel said. Good to not be alone. Good to be with his friend.

"Pretty boy," Jack said caressingly, mapping every contour of Daniel's face. "I wish I knew what it was about you. Why I can't shake you and don't much want to."

"I feel the same," Daniel said. "I don't know what draws me to you this way, but not to my friend Jack. I haven't forgotten him or stopped missing him, but I haven't seen him in you, haven't looked for him in you, since we first kissed."

Jack's eyes lit and he kissed Daniel more deeply, more speakingly than before. He didn't ask for sex with lips, body or hands, content with having Daniel close and caring for him while he turned over in his mind what had passed between him and Sam. He had lost something with her and respected Daniel in not hiding that from him. It was an ending of some of Jack's hopes and certainties, but in his turning to Daniel with this, in Daniel allowing them this intimacy, it was also a beginning.


	8. Part Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Genesis  
> Author: Biblio  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Jack and Daniel   
> Category: Alternate Reality. Angst. Drama. Hurt/Comfort.   
> Date: April 2010.  
> Season/Spoilers: Season 1. An alternate reality springs from the events of "There But For The Grace Of God."  
> Synopsis: At the end of everything, Daniel Jackson provokes unexpected feelings from General Jack O'Neill and changes both their lives forever.

"This command can't afford to lose any one of you," Jack said, cool and clear. "No unnecessary heroics. I want that understood from the get-go, or this…" He gestured from Daniel to McKay, Mitchell to Sheppard.  "SG-1 doesn't happen."

"Define unnecessary," McKay muttered.

"The remit of your team is scientific exploration, specifically first contact," Jack said to Mitchell.

"We know the drill, General," Mitchell replied confidently. "Hearts and minds, not body count."

"Win friends and influence people," Sheppard added. "Especially people who can give us stuff."

"Amen," Mitchell said.

"The correct term is trade, not give," Daniel said. "Implying those people get something in return. And I want to say again, for the record, that I have no idea what, if anything, we'll find at those gate addresses. I've already explained that it was a purely random selection from the Abydos cartouche on my part."

"Party pooper," Sheppard said.

"Commendable caution," Paul Davis countered with a faint smile.

"I want to say again, for the record, that I don't dig," McKay said. "I'll admit that having an experienced linguist along for the ride could be useful, but the primary mission of the team is _scientific_ exploration."

 "It's Dr. McKay's position that archaeology doesn't count," Mitchell explained.

"Needless to say, that's not Dr. Jackson's position," Sheppard added.

"Nor is it the position of this command," Paul said. "General O'Neill has determined that SG-1's remit is to assess the scientific and cultural significance of each mission."

"We're past the point of debating the validity of that," Jack said. "Eleven days, thirteen hours and…" He made a show of checking his watch. "Twenty-one minutes, to be exact, since our past literally caught up with us."

"Ancient history is current military intelligence, we get that," McKay said. "Still…"

"Jackson says you dig," Sheppard said. "You dig."

"Dr. Jackson isn't leading SG-1," Jack said. "That's Major Mitchell's responsibility."

"You understand this chain of command thing?" Mitchell asked Daniel.

"Oh, I understand it," Daniel said, irritated by Jack's particular brand of smooth, manipulative smugness. Start out by telling Mitchell his team is irreplaceable, then remind him he's the one carrying the can if anything happens to it. Nice. Nice, efficient way for Jack to cover Daniel's ass in the field without disclosing his specific interest in said ass in the bedroom.  Ass covered, wings clipped. A twofer.

"As much as I want to get the team out there through the gate and start exploring, I think we need some shakedown time," Mitchell said seriously, getting with Jack's evil programme with a vengeance. "A chance to work together, see how we'll think, react, mesh as a unit."

"I'm already checked out," Daniel said quickly. Going down fighting. "By Colonel O'Neill _and_ by Colonel Makepeace."

"Not by me," Mitchell said.

"Can't you take it on faith?" Daniel said despairingly.

"Checked out?" McKay said. "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"If you think it means being dragged the length, breadth, depth and height of that forest while aggravated marines take pot shots at you," Daniel said, shrugging. "Then yes."

"Aggravated?" Sheppard queried.

"We just stole their spot in the SG team rotation," Daniel said.

"Aggravated," Sheppard said, growing pensive.

"We also have to get you two checked out as second chair in the helos and see how you handle a humvee in rough terrain," Mitchell said.

"Those marines have howitzers?" McKay asked gloomily.

 

 

A lovely blonde woman with ice blue eyes was waiting anxiously outside the CP, breaking into a dazzling smile when Mitchell gave her a big thumbs up, then swooped her into a joyous embrace.

"My wife Amy," Mitchell said proudly, his arm around her. "Amy, I'd like you to meet my new teammates Daniel Jackson and Rodney McKay."

"I'm so happy to meet you," Amy said, shaking hands happily with Daniel and McKay. "John," she added warmly, smiling at Sheppard. "Sorry to butt in while you're on duty, but this is the first good thing to happen to us since…well, you know." Her bright pleasure faded, but she recovered quickly. "Cameron was so excited to get the position, I was on tenterhooks until I knew it had all worked out for us."

"She means I gave due thought and consideration to the weight of responsibility that comes with my new position," Mitchell said.

"I mean he was dancing around in our quarters like Tom Cruise in his underwear," Amy said.

"That's a mental image I didn't need," McKay said.

"Oh, I don't know," Sheppard said. "Should come in handy around the first time he gives us an order we don't agree with."

Amy stretched up to plant a smacker on Mitchell's cheek, smiled charmingly at the others, then strolled off, her wifely duties discharged.

"If someone like you can land someone like her, there's definitely hope for the rest of us," McKay said.

"Be careful what you wish for," Sheppard said, his expression tight.

"Someone's answering my prayers," McKay said. "Sam Carter is back in circulation."

"We'll be back in circulation if we don't get to Stargate Operations," Mitchell said, marching off.

"Your wife is lovely," Daniel said as they walked. "And she seems very supportive."

"She is lovely," Mitchell said softly. "We've known each other since high school. A cliché, I know, but I think that history we have together helps keep her strong when I put myself in harm's way."

"If you've read all the mission reports I entered into the database, you'll know I've only died twice on missions," Daniel said, straight-faced.

"Third time's a charm," McKay joked from behind them.

"You haven't really mastered the art of the insult wrapped in the compliment, have you?" Sheppard said. "With you it's always the insult wrapped in another insult."

McKay took this as a compliment.

Daniel was actually starting to like the man. What you saw was what you got with Rodney McKay. He had no artifice or malice in his character, held everyone to the same impossibly high standard by which he judged himself, and if he was overly fond of praise, he was also indifferent to the hostility of others. Fawn over him or smack him down, he'd treat you no differently. Daniel had to admire that.

When they reached the Stargate enclosure, construction was already underway on the additional SG teamhouses.

"I am really glad Paul Davis is with us and not against us," Mitchell said.

"I think he's anxious to keep people occupied and hopeful," Daniel said. "Literally building new lives here."

"Fast as Davis moves, General O'Neill keeps a few steps ahead," Sheppard said. "He like that in your reality, Jackson?"

"Honestly? No. Colonel O'Neill is at least as smart an operator as General O'Neill, but he enjoys playing dumb for his own amusement. He's said to me more than once he's made a career out of sticking it to the man. I don't think he'll ever _be_ the man."

"He was your team leader, right?" Mitchell said. "And the other members of SG-1 were Captain Carter and Teal'c, first prime of Apophis, the Jaffa who led the attack on the SGA."

"Teal'c gave up everything to join us and fight for the freedom of his people; his family, the trust of the warriors he'd trained, his position of honour and privilege in the court of Apophis. Jack respected that sacrifice. Trusted it."

"This is not the team you chose," McKay said impatiently. "We get that."

"No," Daniel said. "I may not have chosen this reality, but this is the team I chose. I asked for you, Rodney. I asked for all of you. This is SG-1. Now, can we focus on the good stuff? The part where we get to go through the gate."

"We have to survive the shakedown first," Mitchell said.

 

 

"Hi, honey. You're home," Jack said, materialising from his quarters with a shit-eating grin. "How was your day?"

Daniel gave him a long, unfriendly look.

"Want me to kiss it better?"

"No," Daniel said, making a point of entering his security code.

Jack interpreted this to mean that yes, pissy or not, Daniel would like to kiss him very much. He snaked Daniel around the waist and manhandled him, resistant if not actually kicking and screaming, into his lair, then wrestled him down onto the bed. There was something -- complacent -- in the weight and the hands pinning Daniel.

"You done asserting your masculinity all over me?" Daniel said.

"Haven't got started," Jack said, smiling down at Daniel, a specific heat in his eyes. In his kiss. Deep and sweet and breathless. "You want to?" he asked, a suggestive rock to his hips.

"Yes," Daniel said. "But that's not _all_ I want to."

"Later. This first."

Daniel nodded tightly and Jack stripped them both, all goal oriented efficiency. Only, now and again, Daniel felt the fine tremor in Jack's hands. His intensity soaked into Daniel, into his skin and his mouth and his mind. Daniel trembled when Jack entered him, gasping at the steely, masculine power of him, the ravenous kisses and velvet eyes.

The feel of Jack inside him was hardly more stunning than the sight of their bodies joined. Daniel's thighs wide, Jack sleek and strong between; Daniel's heels clenched against the backs of Jack's knees; Daniel in Jack's arms, those long, lean fingers locked for leverage around his shoulders; a hot mouth on his; wool sliding warmly beneath his back, the soft rhythmic creak of the bed; the soft, breathless sounds they made.

A supple, virile fuck.

Only…Jack could not be rushed. More than plain wanting or needing, more than physical release, he gloried in this, he craved this. Daniel completely open, completely trusting to him. Bound to him. Jack was honest in this, blunt in his desire for Daniel.

Aching and beautiful, this passionate expression.

 

 

Idling naked, sleepy and tangled in Jack's bed. One of the better places Daniel had ever had cause to be.

"So, how was your day?" Jack asked. "Seriously."

"I'm talking to my friend here?" Daniel said.

"Considering what we've been up to for the past hour or so, not sure how much more friendly I could be," Jack said.

"Had worse," Daniel said, considering. "Days, I mean."

Not troubling to hide a grievously self-satisfied smirk, Jack pressed a light kiss to Daniel's shoulder.

"Honours were even on the firing range," Daniel said. "At least between McKay and me. I had more speed and stamina on the assault course than expected, McKay had less. I'm the best at driving over rough terrain, the jury is still out over which of us is the worst second chair."

"Let me guess. You both threw up on your pilots?"

"McKay is better at reading the instrumentation but I'm better at following orders. Giving them too, according to Mitchell."

Jack's lips twitched appreciatively. "Nobody likes a backseat pilot."

"It's Sheppard who deserves most of the sympathy."

"I'm sitting on all kinds of smart-mouthed comebacks here," Jack said. "I want my restraint noted. I want points for that. I want to get laid again tonight."

All kinds of witty repartee and banter failed to come to Daniel's mind. It was becoming embarrassingly obvious that he really hadn't given enough thought to all of this. Point in case. Having a lover seemed to entail a lot more sex than he'd anticipated.

"Now you have nothing to say?" Jack said.

"I told you I don’t have much experience of this."

"You like what we do." Jack stroked a possessive hand over the curve of Daniel's hip. "What I do to you."

"You know I do. But…"

"But?"

Daniel slid a little closer, fingertips grazing Jack's jaw line. "I like this too."

Being close with Jack. Having his friend. Trusting that.

It was anchoring him.

"I guess I've had worse days too," Jack said with a slow smile. "Formation of the new SG teams…it's working out. Some of these guys?" He hesitated, his expression shuttering.

"Go on," Daniel coaxed. "Please."

Jack looked wry, but with Daniel petting him and asking so nice, he surrendered. He really did want to get laid again tonight.

"Some of these guys," he said again. "It's the first time since the end of the world I'm seeing anything more than shock coming back at me. Too many of my people -- I've been looking and thinking there's nothing there. They're not with me."

"I think…" Now it was Daniel's turn to hesitate. To pick his words carefully. "I think maybe it's more than survivors guilt, Jack. It's loss."

"Families, friends, the world?"

"The war," Daniel said gently.

Jack's face twisted.

"That's not an insult," Daniel said hurriedly. "It's not even intended as a judgement. It's an observation. The people here, the soldiers, didn't only see their world dying. They lost the war that killed it. You tell me how deep a wound like that goes, Jack. You tell me."

"Sonovabitch," Jack said. Also not an insult. An observation.

"Keep you sharp," Daniel said. "Keep you honest. That's what you told me. What you value about me."

"I'm an idiot," Jack said.

"An idiot who's going to get laid again tonight."

 

 

Reality bit.

Everyone.

Time wore on. Days of time. Such a few days for the weight of time that seemed to have passed.

SG-1 meshed as a unit. Under Mitchell, who believed the team that played together stayed together, they had no choice. They ran the ass off Rodney McKay every morning at 05:00, showered together, ate together, trained together, flew together, learned to give and take and work together.

Davis and Mitchell made Lieutenant Colonel, Sheppard made Major, McKay made a lot of noise. The other SG teams made tentative first contact with the Byrsa, the Shavidai, the Argosians. The people of Genesis made good on the relocation of the Stargate to the Land of Light and the People of Light made good on the trade agreement. The JAG officer made new law on fraternisation. Jeannie Miller and Sam made progress on the Abydos particle accelerator. Sam made herself miserable over Jack.

Jack and Daniel made love.

"Mitchell tells me SG-1 is a lean, mean, fighting machine," Jack said, extracting Daniel from his T-shirt. "He's requested a mission. I'll give him my decision tomorrow."

"Seriously? Tomorrow?" Daniel said. "I might infer you actually had to think about your decision, but knowing Mitchell, knowing you, I realise this is about you not wanting to give up your quality time with me tonight."

"Your point?" Jack said, getting busy with Daniel's belt.

"You're an ass."

"Proud of it."

"I don't trust that glint in your eye," Daniel said. "Last time I saw that glint…"

"Oh, yeah," Jack said wolfishly. "The promised land." He leaned in to steal a kiss. "You want to?"

"I want to know why the classics, all those histories I read were long on the philosophy and short on the practicalities of masculine intimacy," Daniel said. His body wasn't used to this, not at all, and Jack was…passionate.

"No one is grading on a curve here," Jack said, sliding his hands under loosened cloth to cup Daniel's ass covetously, pulling him into a slow and sexy hip grind, an entirely masculine dance of specific rhythm and intent. Time, touch, tenderness. Jack sheathing himself in Daniel's body, strong arms lifting Daniel to rest his full and aching weight on corded thighs, his back tight against Jack's chest, a warm mouth grazing his shoulders, his throat. Jack so deep, so close, he was a part of him, slaying him with all that power and strength and need. Jack not so gentle as before, not so slow, but honest in the depths of his passion for Daniel, making them fly.

Jack was gentle, after. He had gone deep and stayed close, propped up on a lazy elbow, touching Daniel's face with wondering fingers. This quiet intensity shook Daniel more than the intimacy they'd shared in sex.

 

 

Mitchell stuck his head in the control room and ordered up a MALP from the duty technical sergeant, then joined the others at the DHD. "One chance in fifty of dialling something good," he said.

            "Choose an address from one of the later cartouche panels," McKay said.

            "I agree," Sheppard said. "If we're breaking off from your reality, Jackson, let's do it good and hard."

            "Okay. I don't have the usual binary designation, just the symbols, but here goes." Daniel dialled the six symbols he'd memorised from the last panel on the cartouche, keyed the Genesis point of origin, then hit the central control to activate the wormhole, enjoying the awe on Mitchell and Sheppard's faces, philosophical about McKay's blasé indifference. Science seemed to suck the fun out of a lot of things.

            Siler, the technical sergeant, manoeuvred the MALP up the ramp and into the event horizon for them, then went with them into the control room to review the telemetry and video feed.

"Trees," Sheppard said, tapping the monitor. "Lotsa trees."

"Flowers," Mitchell said. "Lots and lots of flowers."

"Time," McKay said."A complete waste of lots and lots and lots of time."

"We won't know that until we gate through and check it out," Daniel said.

"You see any signs of civilisation?" Mitchell asked.

"Not by the gate," Daniel said. "But that doesn't mean anything. These co-ordinates were on the Abydos cartouche, after all."

"Meaning?" Sheppard said.

"Meaning, wherever we go, it's a fair bet the Goa'uld got there first," Mitchell said. "If the locals are smart, they'll settle as far away from the gate as they can get. And if they're not smart, there probably won't be any locals."

"If there are genuine locals, they'll be alien rather than human," Daniel said, struck by another of those whimsical little ideas that kept ambushing his thought processes in this reality. "Remember that the galaxy's human population has been forcibly transplanted from Earth's diverse cultures and historical eras."

"So, it's fair to say this mission could throw up an advanced alien threat we're not in any shape to meet, some primitive hut-dwelling drain on our dwindling resources, or, and this is the most likely eventuality, trees," McKay said.

"My money's on aliens," Mitchell said.

"My money's on trees," Sheppard said.

"My money's on dialling a different destination," Mr. Glass Half Empty said.

"Some planets start out trees, but then you get death as a life experience and invisible cities in the sky," Daniel said.

"So let's go visit that planet," McKay said.

"He has a point, Jackson," Mitchell said. "You're all up on the primitive hut-dweller meet and greet, but you're steering Genesis in a wide berth around those hi-tech friendly aliens you keep talking about."

"They're not so friendly when they get to know us," Daniel said simply. "The Nox are…complicated. Making a good impression is a one-shot deal, and that's kind of the problem. The situation we're in, I can't see anyone volunteering to jaunt unarmed through the gate to a planet inhabited by dangerous flying predators."

"Unarmed?" Sheppard said.

"The problem isn't Big Bird, it's the anti-gun lobby," Mitchell said.

"Precisely," Daniel said.  "We wouldn't just have to go in unarmed, we'd have to stay unarmed. Let ourselves be killed if necessary, and trust to the Nox to revive us."

"You want to sell General O'Neill on this mission, you'd better work on your pitch," Sheppard advised.

"It's Colonel Mitchell's job to negotiate our missions," Daniel said, just this side of prim.

"You keep telling yourself that, Jackson," Mitchell said. "Just so long as you keep right on working all that influence to SG-1's advantage."

"I…" Daniel began.

"Quit while you're ahead," McKay said.

To his intense annoyance, Daniel found himself flushing under the weight of their amused but not unfriendly speculation. He was horribly self-conscious about the all-too public face of his relationship with Jack, let alone what they did together in their privacy, in the night.

"We gotta build up to the Nox," Mitchell said. "I can accept that. The question is, do we accept what's behind door number one, or take another roll of the dice?"

"Is anything stopping us dialling destinations until we find one I think is viable?" McKay asked.

"Only the probability of one of those destinations being a Goa'uld stronghold," Sheppard said.

And the certainty Daniel would not agree with Rodney McKay's definition of viable!

"That's the risk we take every time we dial the gate," McKay objected.

"It's a calculated risk," Mitchell said. "And the odds of us alerting the Goa'uld to our existence go down significantly the more we cross-reference Jackson's gate addresses with the data we're obtaining from the STD on Chulak."

"Stargate telemetry device," McKay corrected.

"STD is…catchier," Sheppard punned slyly.

"You think you have a sense of humour?" McKay said.

"I know you don't," Sheppard said.

"We go through the gate?" Daniel asked Mitchell.

"We go," Mitchell said.

"We're deploying the helos?" Sheppard asked, all business.

"Rough terrain," Mitchell said, turning his full attention back to the video feed. "The forest canopy looks dense, way too dense for a humvee to make passage."

"Send through a UAV?" Sheppard suggested, signalling an expectant technician. "Plot a mission flight path and possible secondary landing sites?"

"Look for possible signs of civilisation," Daniel said quickly. "Population settlement, of whatever duration, leaves a permanent scar on the landscape that should be visible from the air."

"Look for any advanced alien technology that happens to be laying around in the open in that primordial, pointless forest," McKay said sourly.

"Gotta love your optimism," Mitchell said.

It took one to know one, Daniel thought. In fact, looking around, he was beginning to see the truth of what Jack had said to him. There was purpose in these faces, in the quick, efficient deployment of the UAV, the planning and prep for the mission.

In fact,SG-1 drew a crowd.

"I've got no good excuse for being here," Paul Davis apologised.

"You're the XO," Mitchell said. "Good enough."

"It's a big deal," Paul said. "It's the newly formed SG-1's first mission, and the first genuine mission in the Genesis exploration programme."

"Bring you back a T-shirt," Sheppard joked.

McKay eyed the sea of green on the video feed. "Barking up the wrong tree there," he said, experimentally.

Sheppard eyed McKay. "Not funny."

"That was funny!" McKay protested indignantly. "Bark, tree. Funny."

"Tragic."

"That was funny!" McKay appealed to Daniel.

Daniel unkindly ignored the appeal.

"I'm funny," McKay insisted.

"Only as second chair," Sheppard said. "Then you're freaking hilarious. Four hours of your particular spin on witty banter, sparkling repartee and scientific anecdotes starring you, that posting to McMurdo never looked so good."  

"And they say you don't play well with others," Mitchell said, punching Sheppard lightly in the arm.

"Four hours? Try four minutes, flyboy!" McKay retorted. "That's about how long I can take _your_ …"

"McMurdo?" Daniel whispered, feeling hot and cold and horrified.

"Daniel?" Paul said, concerned. "You okay? You look…"

"Oh, my God," Daniel said, the bright, purposeful faces around him congealing. "McMurdo. How could I…my God. There's a gate. Paul, in my reality there's a Stargate. The Antarctic gate."

"What are the co-ordinates?" Mitchell said, not missing a beat.

"Stupid!" McKay sputtered, disbelieving. "Hello? Earth gate, Earth co-ordinates."

"He's right," Daniel said. He was breathing too hard, or too fast, or not at all. He couldn't tell for that hot-cold, prickling pain in his chest and the salt at the back of his throat.

"Focus," Mitchell said, putting a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "There's a gate, a way back, we got that. What do we need to know about the gate? Tactically."

"It's about fifty miles out of McMurdo. The gate is sealed in an ice cavern deep underground. The DHD was completely entombed in ice, but still operational. There was something about the gate, something…a dampening field?" Daniel looked to McKay, who was nodding. "This gate didn't have that. Every time it was activated, there were earth tremors. That was how we located them. Sam. Jack and Sam. There was a power surge as we were gating through from a hostile planet, they were diverted to the Antarctic gate."

"The co-ordinates are good," Sheppard said. "The gate is good, the DHD is good."

"Can be made good," McKay corrected.

"It's doable," Mitchell said.

"I'm calling the general," Paul said.

Daniel couldn't hear what Jack said. In the blazing shock of his horrific oversight, he could hardly hear what his teammates said. He watched Paul's face tighten and the rest was a blur, a whip of rapid orders that put him in the CP briefing room across a table from Jack.

His friend.

His lover.

His commanding officer.

"Report," Jack ordered.

It was Mitchell who stepped up. As SG-1's team leader, it was his responsibility. He sketched out the fact of the Antarctic gate, the brief technicalities Daniel had been able to recall, the implication.

A way back.

Jack never looked at Daniel.

"Two questions, then," Jack said. "If we go and when we go."

"There's a concern about the activation of the Stargate alerting the Goa'uld to our presence in Antarctica," Paul said. Devil's advocate. His job.

"Sam speculated that, before they were dampened, the initial SGC gate tremors and rough passage were caused by a combination of our alien control interface and harmonics from the Antarctic gate," Daniel said.

"McKay?" Jack prompted.

"We experienced the same problem and applied the same solution to the SGA gate," McKay said. "No one ever picked up on synchronous seismic activity in the Antarctic."

"The SGA's gate would have had to be offline," Daniel said. "Making the Antarctic gate the primary."

"There's nothing we can do from this end to prevent seismic activity when we first activate the gate," McKay said. "But we can dampen the gate's tremors and prevent further seismic activity during its activation."

Mitchell spoke up. "The report, Dr. Jackson's report suggest that after the death of Apophis, the Goa'uld forces likely withdrew to bombard Earth from space. That has to be factored into the threat assessment."

"The remoteness of the location and harshness of the environment work in our favour," Sheppard suggested.

"You're assuming there are survivors," McKay said. "The personnel at the base, maybe the other scientific stations too."

"Is that worth the risk?" Mitchell asked Jack.

"The tactical intelligence alone is worth the risk," Jack said. "Confirmation of humanity's fate, be it survival, enslavement or destruction. If the Goa'uld have withdrawn, if there's anything, or anyone left to save, we have no choice other than to make the attempt. Whatever the cost."

"This will be a huge boost to morale," Paul suggested.

"Only if we find something," Jack said. "I want it kept under wraps for now. Strictly need to know."

"SG-1 will lead the reconnaissance mission?" Mitchell asked, all suave conviction.

"SG-2 will lead the reconnaissance mission," Jack said coolly. "It's their remit."

"General, it was Dr. Jackson who brought the mission to the table," Mitchell objected.

"I should've brought the mission to the table sooner," Daniel said quietly. Before anyone else could point out the obvious. He glanced fleetingly at Jack, then away before he could read beneath the surface of that shuttered expression.

"Yes," Jack said. "You should."

"It wasn't deliberate," Daniel said.

"No? Withholding a viable target from a military you were intent on suborning to your own agenda wasn't a calculated act? Just an unfortunate oversight?"

Ice. Jack was ice and stony sarcasm.

Well, Daniel wasn't the man to be cowed by it.

"Am I sorry you missed the chance to fire a final, ineffectual salvo in a war you'd already comprehensively lost? No, Jack. I'm not. I am sorry for the people, those survivors waiting in need. Desperately sorry."

"The timing is moot," McKay said.  "What's important here is that these aren't just any survivors. These are scientists. And it's summer season in Antartica. If Antarctica escaped the attack, we can count on finding twelve to fifteen hundred scientists, including the life science specialists Genesis is desperately short of. The genuinely international contingent Jackson never let us forget about."

"Some of them are girls," Sheppard said.

"The timing _is_ moot," Mitchell said, looking Jack in the eye. "We couldn't have mounted any kind of reconnaissance, let alone a rescue, unless and until we were sure the Goa'uld bombardment had ceased and their forces withdrawn. Going by the timetable of their attack, that would have been…" He made a point of checking his watch. "Right about now."

"McMurdo and the other stations are well resourced, well equipped and prepared for hardship as a matter of course," Paul said. "If anyone stands a shot at survival, it's them."

"So relax, Jackson," Mitchell ordered. "We caught this. It's not the end of the world."

"Funny!" Sheppard said, aiming an appreciative grin pretty pointedly in McKay's direction.

"Get me Makepeace, Kawalsky, Ferretti and Reynolds," Jack ordered Paul. "Colonel Edwards and Dr. Fraiser."

"If SG-1 isn't leading the recon, we'll still be part of the mission?" Mitchell asked Jack. "Jackson's familiarity with the gate terrain and McKay's with the technology makes them invaluable. Plus Sheppard and I are your still senior pilots, and if this isn't an opportunity to show what the Commanches can do on gate deployment, I don't know what is."

"You would be deploying us as a matter of course if we hadn't joined SG-1, General," Sheppard pointed out.

"True enough," Jack said.

Oh, he was pissed. At least as angry with Daniel as Daniel was with himself, but he was a clear thinker and not about to waste a possible resource.

"Makepeace," Jack said as the other team leaders entered the briefing room. "This is your show."

 

 

A storm of organised chaos in the gateroom with Colonel Makepeace in the eye. If Mitchell was chagrined at being benched in favour of this seasoned veteran, he wasn't showing it. He and Sheppard were running a pre-flight check on the precious helos, a resigned but focused McKay making minute adjustments to instrumentation, engine and machine parts in preparation for a dangerous ascent from the ice cavern to the surface.

The other team leaders were in huddles with their men, going over and over plans and contingencies for recon, for rescue, for combat, for retreat. Their testosterone-fuelled ebullience bemused a Daniel drained and oddly dulled by the magnitude of his error. He'd expected to be blamed, shunned. But the military didn't embrace the mistake. Only the opportunity. Mitchell's pragmatism was shared, compounded, reflected back at him.

Suddenly Makepeace was by Daniel's side. "Let it go," he ordered, brusque but not unkind. "Focus on the mission. The self-flagellation will wait. Survivors won't."

Daniel had the smallest part to play here, but…"I'll give it my best."

Makepeace nodded brief acknowledgement, then moved on to deal with another issue. He was in his element; a rock-solid core to the diverse team of combat and other specialists assembling around him. He stood on the ramp before the Stargate, launching into the sort of theatrical rallying speech Daniel for one was rarely moved by. He always put forth extraordinary effort. It wasn't a boast or a matter for pride; he was only hard-wired that way. It made his mistake even more difficult to comprehend.

Daniel wasn't moved by Makepeace's fine, inspiring speech or the awesome event horizon erupting into their midst, but he communicated positivity to his teammates, donned his night vision goggles, was in his spot and through the gate precisely on cue, orienting himself in the ice cavern while the Marines began a security sweep and the combat engineers rigged some serious lighting.

Mitchell, Sheppard and the combat teams would not follow until the Stargate established a lock on the Genesis gate, the area in front of the gate had been levelled and a shaft big enough and stable enough to take the Commanches had been blasted to the surface. The gruff Colonel Edwards and his combat engineers were going to be working flat out.

"Is the cavern like you remember?" Makepeace queried.

"Exactly," Daniel said. "The DHD is buried in that rise above us, in line with the gate."

"McKay?" Makepeace prompted. "I need that DHD operational, ASAP. This mission is for naught if we can't establish two-way gate travel."

"Already on it," McKay said, foregoing his favoured litany of complaints. He was hard on Daniel's heels as they scrambled up the short, slippery slope lugging the electric ice auger between them, his whole attention focused on the ice encasing the DVD while Daniel set up the spotlights. "This is going to take precision," he said.

"It's in my job description," Daniel said, making his own careful survey. The surface ice was dense and opaque, immensely resistant. Daniel marked out a grid, powered up the auger and drilled a shallow test hole an inch deep. He checked he was hitting ice, then drilled down another inch. And another.

"You're kidding me," McKay said after five or so painstaking minutes of test drilling and a power bar. "Start in the middle."

"And the part of the DHD we can least afford to damage? Remind me where that is?"

McKay grumped.

"That would be the delicate, irreplaceable crystal in the middle," Daniel translated. "Better I take the time now than we all regret being stranded here at our leisure. And be grateful we get to dig with more than the Air Force issue knife Sam had at her disposal."

"I never get tired of that part," McKay said, brightening up. "I can't believe she never dialled another address."

"She was in rough shape," Daniel said, his auger hitting something that jarred him to the back teeth.

"You telling me it would not have occurred to you to dial another address?"

"I wasn't there," Daniel said, carefully withdrawing the auger and reaching for his flashlight.

"If you had been, O'Neill would've been sunning himself in the City of Light before happy hour, not expiring slowly from hypothermia."

"Was that a compliment?"

"It wasn't an insult," McKay allowed, graciously stretching a point.

"DHD," Daniel said, making visual confirmation. "Upper right quadrant."

The drilling went much more quickly now, McKay grasping the method in Daniel's madness as his orderly sequence of drill holes systematically bared the surface of the DHD without a whisper of damage.

Makepeace checked in on them from time to time on his circuits through the cavern, murmuring quiet approval of their progress.

They weren't the only ones giving their all. Edwards and his engineers had cleared and levelled an impressive area in front of the gate while the Marines were trying various avenues to the surface in search of an opening that might be safely widened.

As soon as the DHD was cleared, McKay went down to the Stargate and set to dampening its vibrations. He called for the area in front of the gate to be vacated and Daniel dialled Genesis. A cheer went up when the gate activated, then Makepeace gave a thumbs up as he made successful radio contact.

The plan then was simple. Blasting a shaft of the size needed to take the helos was a tricky proposition, but worth it if they could speed up the location and extraction of the survivors. When Colonel Edwards was satisfied with his survey, the charges had been laid and the DHD shielded, a timer was set for detonation, then the  entire recon team returned briefly to the safety of Genesis.

Jack and Paul Davis were waiting for them. For Makepeace to make his report. For the success of the next phase of their mission.

Daniel, unsure how he felt, let alone how Jack felt about him in this moment, made himself scarce. He was relieved, and disappointed, when Jack didn't seek him out. There was scarcely time to acknowledge the fact of that disappointment, then a shout went up, Mitchell and Sheppard called Daniel and McKay to heel and they tenderly escorted the precious helos through the gate to a cavern vastly different than they'd left it, a reddish light slanting over the dark, aged ice. McKay dashed up to check the DHD had come through the blast unscathed, then he and Daniel reluctantly stepped aside to let Kawalsky and Ferretti, Air Force veterans both, take second chair to Mitchell and Sheppard respectively.

Mitchell took the lead. The helicopter ascent needed as much precision as the excavation of the DHD, the Comanche soaring straight up, elevator straight, Daniel's stomach swooping as the cavern wall closed in on the rotor blades, up, up and out into the world. Sheppard's ascent was equally assured, equally impressive. The pilots were in their element.

Makepeace gave them a go, then the indefatigable Edwards and his team set to work shoring up the walls of a secondary shaft they were going to scaffold with a series of ladders and narrow platforms reaching to the surface. This shaft would be used to funnel refugees from the surface to the cavern floor, where the Marines were preparing a staging area for evacuations through the gate. Watching their rapid, meticulous work, it was hard to believe this well-oiled machine had only existed as long as SG-1.

Weighing the pro of offering inspired, expert guidance to the engineers versus the con of maybe being handed a shovel, McKay wandered over to wait it out with Daniel and coincidentally help him eat his power bar. There was nothing pressing on McKay's mind, nothing pressing enough he felt the need to make conversation over. His indifference was almost…restful.

Genesis sent through a makeshift communications array and McKay was called away to help set it up.

Daniel waited on the sidelines. He found it difficult to think, difficult to break out of his frustrating and very unaccustomed passivity. Usually at the heart of things, he merely watched them unfold. The combat troops took up various strategic positions within and around the cavern, and only when they were dug in and as ready as they could be to face an enemy they had no chance of defending against, did Makepeace give the order to begin monitoring transmissions. To search for any sign of life remaining on the planet.

McKay would call if he needed Daniel to translate. If there was anyone…

Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel saw Makepeace stiffen up, surprise on his face as he keyed off his radio. He beckoned his officers to him with an impatient hand. Daniel followed.

"We have a situation," Makepeace said.

A young officer Daniel didn't know asked the obvious. "Goa'uld?"

"Refugees," Makepeace said. "Not just the McMurdo and other station personnel but refugees from the attack. Anyone who could make it to Antarctica by ship or plane."

"How many?" Daniel asked.

"Four to five thousand. In pretty poor shape, according to Mitchell. Looks like we made it just in time, gentlemen. Supplies are exhausted."

"Four to five thousand?" Daniel repeated, blinking. "That's, God, that's amazing!"

The young officer snorted astonished laughter. "We're gonna need a bigger gate!"

"The logistics of this?" Makepeace said. "The scale of the evacuation is much greater than anything we're prepared for."

"Where the hell are we gonna put these people?" someone asked.

"Dr. Jackson?" Makepeace prompted. "Dial Genesis and brief the general, Colonel Davis and Dr. Fraiser on our situation. We're gonna need more manpower here. Set up security, screening, triage, emergency rations, accommodation, supplies there."

"You want me to go back?"

"You're a linguist and cultural expert. You'll be of more use there than you are here."

That was blunt. Unpalatable, but understandable.

Daniel followed his orders.

With Paul Davis overseeing operations, Daniel wasn't surprised to see the changes already wrought in the gateroom and beyond. He had set up everything Makepeace had requested and more. The only thing he wasn't prepared for was the scale of the rescue.

"Four to five _thousand_?" he parroted back to Daniel, stunned. Then he smiled, squeezed Daniel's shoulder hard, and made some calls. In a very short space of time, Daniel was being hugged and scolded comprehensively by Catherine while Janet and a Major Castleman ran the base personnel ragged. The triage facility was extended four-fold, ambulances, humvees and other vehicles lined up and waiting, security forces and clerks positioned in serried rows for the necessary identification and cataloguing of the refugees, emergency rations and water waiting, barriers erected to keep the refugees flowing from one essential service point to the next.

The atmosphere was electric; base personnel, civilians and all, pouring out to help and support. Barracks were being prepared, tents hastily erected.

Then Jack was there. He spoke with Paul Davis and Janet, with Castleman, with the clerks and the gateroom technicians. He had the gate dialled and took Makepeace's report.

"What's the situation with the Goa'uld?" he asked.

"Gone, Sir," Makepeace said. "We're monitoring communications and there's nothing, literally nothing out there. Nothing and no one. Not even an emergency signal. And, Sir. The light. The sky is red. The planet is burning."

There was silence.

"Number of refugees still not confirmed, General, but closer to five thousand than to four," Makepeace went on.

"The logistics of this look to be a nightmare," Jack commented. "Round trips of fifty miles or more in that terrain."

"McMurdo and the other stations have ground transportation, a few small planes, helos. What they don't have is fuel."

"We'll start sending fuel drums and emergency rations through," Paul said. "We have twenty-four hour daylight, five thousand people to transport in…how many vehicles? Do we have an estimate on that?"

"Between McMurdo and Scott Base, maybe fifty, but a lot of those only take two people. One driver, one passenger. Helos can take one pilot, one passenger. Planes can take three to four passengers."

"This is going to be slow," Paul said. "Factoring food and fuel runs, we're looking at transporting maybe two to three hundred people a day, and that's only from the nearby bases. What about those further afield?"

"Two to three weeks, then," Jack said. "If everything goes according to plan."

"With that sort of timescale, I'll need to establish a triage facility on site," Janet said.

"Assign additional personnel to SG-9, but I want you here, Doctor," Jack said. "Co-ordinating all our medical efforts."

"Some of the refugees are in very poor shape, Doctor," Makepeace confirmed. "They're suffering from shock and malnutrition, infectious diseases that have taken hold of some of the cramped shipboard populations, some have more serious medical conditions that have gone untreated."

It was reasonable, but…

"I know," Catherine said sympathetically to Janet. "Every instinct I possess is telling me to go to their aid too."

"I want refugees evacuated today," Jack ordered Makepeace. "Co-ordinate with Colonel Davis for whatever resources you need, but make it happen. The base, the people here and there need it to happen."

Catherine rubbed Daniel's arm softly. "You should be proud. If you hadn't thought of this, all those people would have died in isolation and suffering. And I believe a lot of our hope would have died with them."

"You're very generous," Daniel muttered in a stifled tone. Too generous. "I didn't remember. I don't know _how_ I…"

"You wanted to go home," Catherine interrupted. "To save your world. And you had all of us on your back, battering you with questions, demands."

Then. But since?

"That's, that's not an excuse," Daniel said, stumbling.

"You're too hard on yourself," Catherine said. "Are any of us thinking clearly? Acting as we would safe in our homes, our families, our lives? Forgive the mistake, Daniel, if it was a mistake. I prefer to think of it as…humanity."

"It was a mistake," Daniel said. He looked at Jack. "An honest mistake," he added. Hoped it was true. Hoped Jack believed it was true.

 

 

The wait was exhausting. For Daniel, Paul, Janet, for everyone. A hush had fallen, an inaudible weight of expectation, every gaze, every hope pinned on the Stargate.

"Here we go," Paul said as the first chevron activated on the gate.

Janet and her medical team took up positions of readiness by the safety line at the foot of the gate ramp. Castleman and his surrounding SFs braced themselves.

Then the wait was over, the work beginning.

The first refugees to find safety in Genesis were starved, terrified, weeping suffering and gratitude as they stumbled into Janet's care. Twenty or so American and New Zealand civilians, scientists, men and women who staggered in shock as a cheer went up from the waiting crowds outside the security perimeter, a swell of emotion to rival any from the People of Light.

Daniel, Paul and Catherine moved among the refugees, offering reassurance, fielding anxious or angry questions, explaining, empathising, while medical personnel examined and assessed. Malnutrition, exhaustion, shock. Survival. Some were thrilled to be alive. Some were sorry.

Daniel and the others did what they could to stem that tide of hysteria, then handed the survivors on to the clerks and the guards and the base to take care of. Then the next batch of twenty or so were sent through. Then the next.

Clutching a photo of his dead family, a gaunt, weeping man charged the line of stoic SFs, collapsing in a guard's arms before he could throw a single punch.

A woman, not young or old, her face terribly grey, dropped to the ground at Catherine's feet and died from a massive heart attack before anyone could reach her. Choked and furious at the loss, Janet helped transfer the woman to a stretcher and gently covered her.

Catherine was shaken, but wouldn't be budged. This was something she could do, something important and human and honest. She would do it.

It seemed to Daniel that hers was the face, the voice the refugees best responded to. Paul noticed it too.

"I have to go," he said regretfully to Daniel. "I have to get these people screened, fed and safely situated before nightfall."

"Use the civilians," Daniel suggested impulsively. "The scientists. If you're placing several survivors together in a barracks, assign them a civilian mentor, someone friendly and non-threatening who can answer their questions and help get them oriented on the base. I mean, they're not prisoners, are they? We need to start building some trust as soon as we can."

"That's a good suggestion, Daniel," Paul said. "I'll do that. Now…I really have to go."

Daniel stayed with Catherine, offering her and Janet what support he could. It was a blur of frantic emotions, guilt, relief, fury, recriminations, questions, questions. Who were they? Why had they taken a way out and left the rest behind to die? Had they known about the attack? Why had they come back? Why hadn't they come sooner? Why?

Janet took the briefest of moments to thank Daniel for his help before accompanying her last patient to the hospital. Her day, like Paul's, was far from over. Now she had to check on every patient she'd referred for treatment.

"I'm exhausted," Catherine confided, leaning gratefully on Daniel's proffered arm. "Would you mind walking me back to my quarters? I could use the air."

They left the Stargate compound at a slow walk. The civilian crowd had melted away, but the base personnel were still processing the newcomers and setting up ready for the next influx.

"And this was only the first day," Catherine sighed.

"I don't know what to say," Daniel said. "This all exploded out of nowhere. One minute SG-1 is prepping for a mission, and the next?" He hunched an uncomfortable shoulder.

"It's a good thing we're doing," Catherine said.

"I'm not disputing that."

"Only your part in it."

"I should've remembered, Catherine. I should've remembered sooner. I have dozens of random, anonymous gate addresses I can recall without effort, but this? A second Stargate? A way back to Earth? This is _huge_."

"You're determined to second-guess yourself on this," Catherine said. "I haven't known you long, Daniel, but it's been long enough for me to see you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You're one man. Can you not accept that limitation? Do you have to be so much more than the rest of us?"

"It's not hubris," Daniel said, stung. "Not arrogance. I learned young that actions generate reactions, consequences. Cause and effect. A hard, a very hard lesson and one I learned way too young. I don't think I can do more than other people, I only think I should achieve everything I set out to do."

"If I had brought these people home, would you blame me for forgetting the way back to them until now, or be happy I had remembered it?"

"I…"

"Of course you wouldn't blame me," Catherine said, sublime in her conviction. "It would not occur to you to do so. Which suggests to me that the real question here is: why must you blame yourself?"

"Haven't you already decided that I'm an arrogant S.O.B who thinks he's the centre of the universe?"

Catherine sighed. "Must you be so difficult about these things?"

"I must."

"Then go and try to explain yourself to someone whose opinion matters."

"Your opinion matters."

"Not as much as your own."

"I don't like the implications of that," Daniel said, shaken. "Look, Catherine, I already said. This stuff isn't personal for me."

"But that is," Catherine said, pointing to Jack's quarters. "He crosses that line you've drawn. Go explain yourself to Jack."

Daniel liked the implications of that insight even less.

Looking up into his confused, kindling face, Catherine laughed and patted his cheek. "You forget. I've been manipulating men, powerful, arrogant men, for longer than you've been alive. Now go. Let Jack help you."

"I doubt help is what Jack has in mind right now," Daniel said despite himself.

He might hold himself to an impossibly high standard, but he had the sinking feeling this was nothing to that pedestal of Jack's he'd tumbled from.

"You know your own mind, Daniel. It's a strength," Catherine said. "Don't take what I say to heart. I only mean that you shouldn't let that strength of character become a weakness. You need to let someone in, you need to be open to the influence of at least one friend. We all do. For you, that friend is General O'Neill. Now, let your friend help you put this 'mistake' in perspective." She smiled reassuringly. "You're a very bright young man. Bright enough to know a friend doesn't have to agree with you to make you see the truth of things." With that, she nodded decisively and walked away, spine straight, head held high. As always.

Thinking, regretfully, his life was pretty much an open book to these people, Daniel let himself into the barracks. He didn't hesitate or second-guess the impulse; he knocked on Jack's door.

Waited.

Waited some more.

Decided Jack wasn't that childish but was likely that busy and went into his quarters to shower, eat some chocolate and wait him out.

It was…strange. Sitting on the edge of his bed facing the door, Daniel felt unsettled, almost jumpy, and every time he tried to worry at the problem, to frame cause and effect, action and reaction, consequence, clearly, his mind skittered away.

He realised he was watching the door. Watching the clock.

Waiting.

Waiting for Jack.

He'd never done that in his life.

Never let another living being affect him to this extent, never allowed another person to get this close, to have this much power over him. His thoughts, his actions. His feelings.

That was, that was more than the impact of a friend.

That was the impact of a lover.

Probably not the optimal time for Jack to finally return to his quarters, but that was Daniel's luck all over. He shot out of his quarters like an arrow from a bow.

"You're late!" He was irritable, barely short of accusing.

Jack froze at his door, running through all kinds of responses, emotional and verbal. He took a breath and turned a cold gaze on Daniel. "That's what you're going with?"

"No. I mean…"

Jack asserted his masculinity all over Daniel. Inside, they stood very close, kissing close. But combative.

Daniel felt breathless. "I don't know what I mean."

"I do," Jack said. "You never really committed to this reality, did you? Even now, even with…us. You'd go back. You wouldn't hesitate."

"That's what you think?" Daniel said, honestly dismayed.

"That's what I know." Jack turned away, walking over to pour himself a whisky. "I guess I've always known."

He looked tired, so tired and cold. Even his anger couldn't warm him.

"All this talk of choices," Jack said. "You never made any choice."

"I don't know what I would choose, what I would do, if a way home opened up for me. I don't know," Daniel said, appealing with voice and gesture. Going after Jack. "I don't. I've been honest with you about that. Honest with you about everything."

Jack's face twisted. "You think that doesn't make all of this worse? You really are clueless."

"I was honest about that too!"

"Don't get pissy with me," Jack ordered.

"Don't give me orders."

"I'm your commanding officer. And it's my job to give you orders."

"You're my friend. And it's my job as your friend to make you, to, to help you give the right orders," Daniel countered.

"Make me? Help me?" Jack mused softly. "Got it right the first time on that one."

Daniel snorted an angry breath. "Of course. My mistake. You're the victim in all of this. You seduced me, you pursued me relentlessly, you drive me crazy with that, that _entitlement_ of yours, like I'm your property, but you're the victim." He flung away from Jack, facing the wall; his face, his body heating to real anger. "What was I thinking!"

"You tell me!" Jack snapped, his own voice rising. "A second Earth Stargate? Jesus Christ, Daniel. What _were_ you thinking? Tell me. You _forgot_? A way home? You tell me what you were thinking!"

"What I was thinking?" Daniel repeated, his voice shamefully unsteady. "I haven't been thinking, I haven't taken a deep breath, since I got stranded here."

"Oh, here we go, back to your precious reality. Never far from your thoughts, is he?"

A slip of the tongue. A deep, furiously betraying slip. A biting tone. Biting fingers on Daniel's shoulder.

"A way home, Daniel," Jack said stonily. "For us. But not for you. Tell me. What were you thinking?"

"Stupid sonovabitch," Daniel said, quiet and angry and shaking. "I was thinking of you."

"Me?" Jack hooted in derision.

Goaded, Daniel turned on him, punched him hard in the shoulder and was slammed breathless into the wall, the whole of Jack's punishing weight on him.

"You!" he yelled. "I can't think of anyone, anything but you! I love you, you smug, _entitled_ bastard!"

He was in Jack's arms, Jack melting to velvet, Daniel breathing hard into a wall of man, of friend.

"I'm in love with you," Daniel said, in case the stupid sonovabitch hadn't caught that.

"Finally!" Jack crowed. "You want to talk stupid? What the fuck do you think I've been telling you all this time? Since you got here."

"You…love me? You fell in love with me?" Daniel said, rather pale.

"As we met," Jack said. "And I don't need you to tell me what a cliché that is. I never met anyone who aggravates me as much as you do. I'm torn between smacking the snot out of you and fucking your overactive brains out."

"That's a fine, romantic sentiment," Daniel said, not entirely displeased. "So?"

"So?"

"All this? Antarctica? Water under the bridge. Forgiven and forgotten?"

Jack kissed Daniel softly on the mouth.

"Are you kidding?" Daniel said. "Just because I, I put out? You should kick my ass!"

"You not doing a good enough job of that on your own?" Jack said sardonically.

"I let those people down. I let you down. I let myself down."

"And now you can relax and enjoy being as fallible as the rest of us," Jack said, making very specific advances on the bed, dragging a not especially resistant Daniel with him. "Genius you may be; _I_ don't expect you to have all the answers. And now, maybe no one else will either. Genesis and you?" he asked.

Daniel quirked a curious eyebrow.

"All getting a little complacent and co-dependent, don't you think?"

"Complacent? I just landed you with five thousand refugees. A permanent logistical nightmare. A ticking timebomb of cultural and political tensions. A…"

"Shut up, Daniel," Jack said, shutting him up in the best way he knew how.

They wound up tussling by the side of the bed, Jack making a determined bid for mastery, Daniel making an equally determined bid for escape. They had things to discuss!

"If McKay and Mrs. Miller found you a way back through that looking glass?" Jack said suddenly.

Daniel…smiled.

Jack growled something incoherent, spun Daniel around, wrestling him into place long enough to bare his sweet, arrogant ass in swift, economical movements and bend him over the bed. There was the sound of a zipper being pulled.

"Is this that position you were telling me about?" Daniel said. "That one you like?"

"I'm going to fuck you," Jack promised. "I'm going to fuck you all night."

Daniel offered encouragement. "The first thing I'd do would be to talk to Jack."

Spread, expectant, that bright burn of penetration sliding into slow, strong pleasure; iron hands holding Daniel's hips, moving him as Jack liked, rocking him back onto supple, snapping hips; corded thighs muscling Daniel's; chest hammering against his back; steely, masculine power pulverising him.

Jelly legs, spaghetti spine, Daniel reached up, reached out to his lover, holding a trembling hand to a clenched, sweating cheek.

"I'd ask Jack," he began.

Jack rode him deeper, harder; lovers arching, moaning, coming, flying together.

"I'd ask him for the Abydos cartouche," Daniel said caressingly, making Jack his own.

**Finis**


End file.
